


In another lifetime.

by elisa_anya



Series: In Another Lifetime [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, Nephilim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-04 02:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 150,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisa_anya/pseuds/elisa_anya
Summary: In an universe where Castiel never took the souls from purgatory and he's formed a family with Dean, they are forced to send their children away into hiding in the universe we're used to, to save them from Lucifer. Alerted by the presence of three new powerful beings, The Winchesters and Castiel must find the unwelcomed Nephilim before angels, demons or other enemies do. Team Free Will takes a glimpse at what their lives could have been in another lifetime, forcing them to reconsider their feelings and choices.





	1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. There’s a couple of things I think you should know before you start reading the story.

1) The story’s set at the end of season 11 but with some differences: Amara didn’t bring Mary back and Lucifer wasn’t set free from his cage.

2) Also, no Men of Letters stuff.

3) I apologise in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes I might make, English isn't my mother tongue but I think I get around pretty well.

4) The story will have gifs, which are not of my making, so I take no credit for them. If I find the artist that made them, I will put it in the notes at the end.

Though I’ve been in the fandom from the start, this is actually my first SPN fanfiction! I hope you like it.

Art by: Riverchester (go check out her stuff!)

                                             

* * *

 

Dean wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t even trying, he knew he’d fail to put his mind to rest. Instead, he stared out the window into the pitch-black night and waited. He wanted so badly to take the whiskey bottle from the cabinet in the kitchen and have his way with it, but he’d toned down his drinking habits a long time ago. He didn’t want his children to grow up watching their father drink himself away, kind of like John had done. Then again, he also had hoped to watch his children grow up safely and he'd failed.

A terrible guilt burned through him. He should have known… He was a Winchester and Winchesters didn’t get happy endings, their lives always ended in tragedy, blood and pain. No matter for how long he'd fooled himself into playing house with Cas, he should have known this day would come, he should have prepared better… How could he have ever thought he could get away with being this happy? He should have known he would be putting his children’s lives at risk the very minute they were born, just for the sake of being Winchesters. How could they have been so selfish?

The devil was coming. _Again_. But this time, the main targets in Lucifer’s mind were his children. In this very moment, Heaven, led by Castiel, was fighting demons and other creatures to stop them from releasing the devil from his cage. It was the first time in a long time that all evil creatures worked together. Ever since Heaven and the Winchesters had become allies, they'd turned into an almost unstoppable force for good that had to be destroyed somehow, but everyone who tried, sooner or later perished. Dean wanted to be there, wanted to fight by Cas’ side, but someone had to stay behind and take care of the children, be the last line of defence in case Heaven failed...

So the Winchesters and Bobby waited in the old man's house. The children slept upstairs, so did Bobby. Sam was reading in the kitchen, or at least he was the last time Dean checked. The older Winchester just sat in the sofa, looking up the dark sky adorned with tiny stars, trying very hard not to think, trying hard not to imagine a thousand scenarios in which Cas fell or got hurt in a fight while he wasn't there to watch his husband's back.

“Dean,” a very familiar voice called.

Dean jumped, startled, then leaped from the sofa and hurried towards Castiel. His angel looked exhausted, his hair was messy but not in its usually kind of hot way and his clothes were splattered with blood. Dean quickly scanned him and felt the pressure in his heart lightened a little when he didn’t see any major injuries: the blood had to be someone else's. He heard Sam's heavy footsteps running towards them, but he only had eyes for the angel.

“Cas!” Dean threw his arms around the angel, holding him tightly and never wanting to let go again. “You’re alright, thank God!”

“Dean,” against his will, Castiel pushed Dean away gently but urgently. “It’s time. He’s coming.”

The pair looked at each other for a moment. The smile that had inadvertently ventured into Dean’s lips when Castiel had returned quickly faded away.

The fight was almost over, and they were losing. They had to let go, they had to get ready, but they were both afraid to let each other go, they feared it’d be the last time they’d be able to hold each other like this. Standing there, desperately clinging to each other, Dean's grip on Castiel's arm tightening in anticipation, in fear, before he finally had to let go, it felt like a silent goodbye.

“Dean, go,” Cas begged. He couldn’t find the strength to let the human go.

For a moment, Dean’s grip tightened even more around Cas’ arms, his fingertips digging deep into the other's muscles. Had Castiel been human, it would had hurt him. Dean hadn’t felt this intense dread in a long time; many years, in fact. There was so much he wanted to say, but he was lost for words. Instead, he pulled Castiel into a bruising kiss, their lips clashing against each other’s. When Dean pulled away, he forced himself to look away. It was killing him to walk away from his angel and he had to order his legs to move as he ran upstairs, one foot in front of the door, catching sight of Sam as he ran past him. Sam looked beyond concerned. The young Winchester wanted to say something to his brother, but there was nothing that would comfort Dean, nothing that could calm himself either. He loved Dean's children madly, and he was worried about his own too. His family wasn't with them at the moment, it wasn't safe to be at Bobby's. He'd promise his wife and child he'd come back when things got sorted out, but the truth was Sam didn't know if he would be able to keep that promise.

Upstairs, Dean barged into the room where his children slept and turned on the light.

“Mary! Balthazar! Get up!” he ordered loudly.

Mary, the oldest of his children, a 10 years old blond girl with sparkly blue eyes, jumped from the bed she was sharing with his brother, completely rattled. Balthazar, in the other hand, just rolled over the bed and covered his eyes with his hands. The boy was only 5, nearly 6 as he liked to remind everyone, and was the living image of Castiel. In his crib, Zeppelin Winchester woke up and started to sob and whine. He did not appreciate his father waking him up like this. The little baby was only a couple of months old, and was the only one with Dean’s green eyes.

Dean opened the small closet in the corner on the room and took a backpack he’d put there himself days ago. He then turned towards his children again, kneeling by the bed, and pulled Balthazar into a sitting position. Mary had already gotten up and was looking around the room with a alarmed expression in her face.

“Mary, grab the backpack, put it on,” he ordered his daughter, and when Mary didn't react, he yelled more urgently, “NOW, MARY!"

Mary opened her eyes in surprise; Dean wasn’t the type of father that raised his voice. The tone in his voice woke her up like a slap to her face. Something was wrong. She knew that, she’d known for a while, she’d had a talk with her parents, and she was old enough to see through the act her parents put up when they were around her brothers and herself… But she had hoped that what they’d warned her about would not come true…

Balthazar turned to his father, frowning with his eyes still close as if the light was personally offending him. He wasn’t happy with Dean’s yelling either, nor with being woken up in the middle of the night. Dean was trying to fight Baltz’s shoes into the boys’ feet when the baby officially begun to cry. Mary sat on the floor and started putting her own shoes on, then put a coat over her pyjamas and threw the backpack over her shoulders.

“I’m coming, Zep, I’m coming,” Dean called over his shoulder. “Baltz, buddy, look alive, please. I need you to wake up.”

“What’s going on?” the boy dragged his words, still half asleep.

“You’re going on a little trip with Mary, alright?”

“Now?” the boy opened a single eye and looked at his father with a very confused expression in his face. Dean bit the insides of his cheeks and tried his best to fake a smile.

“Yeah, buddy, it has to be now, okay?” Dean kissed the top of Balthazar’s forehead and moved to pick up Zep from the crib before his crying turned into an intense wailing.

“Dad,” Mary run after him, grabbing his arm, pulling him towards her with an unnatural force for a 10 years old girl. “Dad, do we really have to go? I can stay. I can help you.”

“Mary, we’ve talked about this.” Dean avoided meeting her eyes. He knew what he’d see in them; the same fear he was feeling. Instead, he grabbed the small blanket in the crib and put it around the youngest of his children. The baby kicked and threw his fists into the air in an angry motion. The force of his feet against Dean’s stomach actually hurt, the baby unable to control his powers. “Here, take your brother.”

“But dad-”

“Mary, _please_!”

Dean turned to his daughter, finally unable to hide the growing mess of emotions inside him. He needed her to listen, to obey, and it had to be _now_. Mary looked at her father for only a moment, then nodded and took Zeppelin in her arms. She pat her baby brother on the back, trying to comfort him, but there were tears in her eyes too.

“What’s going on?” Balthazar asked, looking back and forth between them. He hadn’t missed the expression in Dean’s face just now, and it had awoken an ugly feeling in his gut.

“Daddy? Where are we going? Where’s papa?”

But Dean didn’t answer. He took the knife from his pocket, cut his hand and started drawing symbols in the window with his own blood.

“Dad!” Balthazar looked at the blood with bewilderment and disgust. “What are you doing!?”

Without thinking, Dean grabbed one of his children’s dirty socks that laid in the ground and pressed it against his wound. Mary reached for his hand and the moment their skin made contact, he knew she’d healed him. They looked at each other for a moment as he knelt before them. It broke Dean’s heart to see her eyes filled with tears, she was trying so hard to hold them in that she had started to shake a little with the effort, but he didn't have time to comfort her, to give her words of encouragement. All he could do was say his goodbye.

"Remember what I told you, alright? Give grandpa Bobby the letter in the backpack. He'll probably be different from the Bobby you know but he'll take care of you. Don't use your powers unless it's necessary. And don't tell anyone you're a Winchester."

“But you’ll come and get us soon, right?" she asked between sobs. "You promise?”

“I promise I’ll try.”

“That’s not enough!”

“It’ll have to be, sweetheart, it’s all I can promise.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Balthazar asked, alarmed.

Dean’s hands shook as he pulled his children into a hug.

He kissed Mary and Zeppelin in the top of their heads, but Balthazar pulled away when it was his turn. He was upset and confused, and did not like the way no one was responding his questions.

“I don’t want to go!” he exclaimed stubbornly. “I want to stay with you!”

“I’m sorry, son, but you have to go now.”

“No!”

“Please don’t make it harder than it is,” Dean leaned in to kiss him again but the boy pushed him away once more, as if he’d be able to avoid leaving if his father couldn’t kiss him goodbye.

“Dean!” Sam called his brother with urgency from downstairs. Time was running out.

“I love you,” Dean tenderly stroke Balthazar’s cheek, then got to his feet and took a few steps backwards. “I will always love you, in all universes. Now, go, Mary. _Go_!”

Mary adjusted the weight of the baby in one arm and grabbed Balthazar’s wrist with her free hand. The boy fought her, but she was strong, using her grace to pull at his brother. She then leaped out of the window, through the glass and the spell painted on it, dragging Baltz with her.

Dean watched as they disappeared through the window, off to another universe. The last thing he saw was Balthazar, still fighting Mary, tears rolling down his cheeks, a hand extended towards Dean, pleading him to take it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Just wanted to thank anyone who's reading and feel free to leave comments, critics, thoughts, opinions, I just love comments. Enjoy!

It hadn’t been long since Amara and God took off. _Again_. But the Winchesters weren’t the kind to sit around and relax. The boys needed to keep their minds busy to avoid uninvited thoughts and cruel memories to haunt their minds. So, as usual, they got back to hunting almost right away. It was either joining them or staying back at the bunker, all by himself, so Castiel went with them too.

It was late, Dean was already sleeping in one of the two beds in the motel room and Sam and Castiel were doing research on their computers. There seemed to be a ghost in town and the boys were trying to figure out the connection between the people it was targeting. Cas had stopped for a few minutes; he was mentally tired. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still tried to rest and take short breaks from time to time just to allow his mind to have some peace and quiet for a couple of minutes, a habit he'd picked up on while he'd been human. He’d gone over to the kitchen to heat up some water for tea and was just taking two cups out of the cupboards when it happened.

First, it was as if a wave of powerful energy ran through him, completely unannounced, making his insides tingly. It was unexpected and like nothing he had felt in a long time. It reminded him, he thought with concern, of what he felt in the presence of archangels... There weren't supposed to be any archangels left, except for Lucifer down in the cage. He gasped, surprised, and then all at once his brothers and sisters begun to talk. Overwhelmed and taken aback by the massive, sudden communication, Castiel dropped the small porcelain cups, which fell to the floor and scattered into pieces around the room, and covered his ears with his hands, as if it’d helped stop the stream of voices in his head. Sam looked up and Dean sat up in his bed, eyes wide and alert.

“Cas!” Dean jumped out of bed and ran to him.

“Are you alright?”

The brothers surrounded the angel, Dean placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Cas, buddy, what is it?”

Cas had his eyes closed and was slightly curled in on himself as if in pain. He wanted to listen, wanted to find out what had happened, but it was hard to make out complete sentences while all his brethren spoke at the same time. Slowly, the voices started to die down and his hands fell to the sides again as he took a deep, calming breath.

“Angel radio,” he explained. “There hasn't been a massive communication like this in a long time. I grew unused to it, that’s all.”

“Did something happen?” Sam asked. A knot in his stomach had already begun to form. It’d been only a couple of weeks since the whole Amara thing had come to an end. They’d suffered a lot, physical and emotionally, and were still recovering from the whole ordeal. He was, in a strange way, grateful to be hunting something as simple as a ghost after God's sister. And if angels were making a fuss about something… It couldn’t be good sign.

“Yes. I felt it.”

“You felt what, Cas?” Dean asked, his hand still securely placed in the angel's shoulder.

“I felt an incredible power running through me. Like a expansive wave. My brothers are saying it’s a Nephilim.”

“What? How’s that possible? I thought angels were back in Heaven,” Sam said.

“Some are, but not all. I don’t understand why they’d do that. Nephilim are prohibited by angel law. The penalty for matting with humans is death, to the angel _and_ the Nephilim.”

The boys’ faces changed from worry to contempt, as it sometimes did when they discussed Heaven and angels, and they looked at each other for a moment, silently agreeing on their feelings on what they're just heard.

“They kill the baby?” Sam repeated in disbelief. He shouldn't be surprised, angels had done some pretty nasty things in his lifetime, but this was an all time low. “Isn’t that too harsh?”

“You don’t understand, Sam. Nephilim are _extremely_ powerful beings. The combination of the human soul and angelic grace… It’s too much, all packed up inside a child. They could destroy an entire city by accident. It’s like a baby with the energy of an atomic bomb within them. If you mistreat the baby and they go off, they don’t just cry; they can kill everyone around them.”

“Well, then, don’t mistreat the baby,” Dean argued angrily, raising his voice as he dropped his hand from Cas’ shoulder.

“It’s not that simple, Dean. A simple tantrum could put people's lives in danger,” the angel tried to reason with the brothers.

“So, what, your brothers are going to hunt this angel and kill them before the baby is born?”

“It could be a human or an angel carrying the baby, I don’t know which. If it’s a human, the mother will die when the baby is born.”

“How’d you know that?”

“It’s not the first time this has happened. There’s a reason why we stopped having contact with humans. Like I said, nephilim are dangerous, even if they don’t mean to. That’s why they’re forbidden. They must be stopped.”

“Well, Cas, I’m sorry if I'm not on board with hunting pregnant women or angels to kill them.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask you to come with me, did I?” Cas hissed, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Dean and Castiel stared at each other in a silent challenge, hands rolled into fists. The angel wasn't backing down, not even when Dean looked so disappointed in him. He could stand it if it meant he got to keep the Winchesters and other humans safe.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. It wasn’t the way _Dean_ wanted it to be. Why did they always end up fighting? He was so goddamn tired of fighting Cas.

Castiel just shook his head in defeat and begun to walk away, making his way toward the door, but Dean reached for him and grabbed his wrist.

“Cas, wait a minute,” he took a deep breath to cool down his bad temper. If he didn’t, the angel was going to walk out that door without him, off to who knows where. He was family, and it was about damn time they started acting like one. Not that Dean knew what a normal family acted like, but still. “Don’t storm off just because we don’t agree on something!”

The angel looked down at Dean's hand and considered the man’s words for a moment. He wasn’t happy with the way Dean dismissed angel law. Yes, he himself had fought against them now and then, and the Winchesters had always been involved when that happened in one way or the other, thank you very much, but this was different, this time they didn't know what they were talking about. A power like this, one that could not only match Lucifer’s but even exceed it... They couldn’t just let it be untamed, uncontrolled. A force like that, used for evil, could bring a second apocalypse to the world.

“What do you suggest we do?” he demanded tiredly, shrugging impatiently and throwing his arms out.

“First of all, let’s finish what we started here.”

“Dean, this is a pressing matter-”

“Babies take time to cook, Cas,” Dean saw Cas’ confused expression and just as the angel was about to say something, probably something stupid like ‘ _you don’t cook babies, Dean_ ’, he added, “it’s gonna take some time for the baby to be born. You’ve got all the other angels looking for this kid, right? Let them. Let’s deal with this ghost first, then we’ll deal with this nephilim stuff.”

The angel sighed. He looked at Sam, waiting for the young brother to share his opinion, but he didn’t seem to want to get in the middle of their argument. Cas could tell he agreed with Dean anyway, so he decided not to push the subject. He reminded himself that not long ago he’d thought Dean had gone off to die for them, to save them from Amara. He really hadn’t expected Dean to survive his encounter with Amara, and was beyond grateful to his Father to be back with the boys. He'd actually believed the human had died, for a while, until they got reunited again, and during that short period of time he had felt worse than when the Devil himself had killed him. The truth was he still doubted his place alongside the Winchesters, after all their arguments and the times he’d acted behind their backs, but it was still the only place he could dare call home; although he didn’t _really_ fit in with humans, his kind hated him for the most part. Some still even wanted him dead. The brothers was all he had, he couldn't just walk away, especially not when Dean wanted him to stay.

“Alright,” he agreed. “But as soon as we finish here, we track down the nephilim. Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

Mary pulled at Balthazar but the boy was still resisting her. As he tried to pull the other way, back into the room, his grace lashed out and accidentally hit his sister's back, injuring one of her wings. Mary cried out on pain and had to make a great deal of effort to land on the ground with only one wing as she gripped her brother's wrist tightly, with the baby still secured in the other arm. Their land wasn’t soft; Baltz felt hard on his hands and knees while Mary fell with all her weight on one leg and then collapsed on the ground altogether.

Balthazar got to his feet, freeing himself from his sister’s grip, and took a quick look at their surroundings as he shook off glass from his hair. It was dark, there were no lights inside the house. In fact, the house didn’t look like grandpa Bobby’s house at all.

“Where are we!?” he demanded to know, turning to Mary. “Where did you fly us off to? Take me back to grandpa's!”

The baby cried over his screaming brother, pulling at Mary’s hair, demanding attention. Mary stumbled to her feet, also shaking glass off of her, and hugged the baby closer to her chest. She could feel Zep’s grace wanting to break free, it felt distressed and anxious. She needed to calm him down or he’d lash out soon too and probably hurt her.

“I didn’t fly anywhere, we travelled through space!”

“Take me back! I want to see papa!”

“We can’t go back, it’s not safe. We have to stay here.”

“Take me back!”

The boy’s eyes turned unnaturally blue, even more than usual, and light started to glow from within him, casting long shadows of his impressive, fully-grown wings on the ground.

“Balthazar, stop it, you’re gonna make Zep lose control!”

“TAKE. ME. BACK!” Balthazar screamed with all his might, a cry so loud and high-pitched that Mary turned her face away. He was screaming with angelic voice, his little fists shaking violently.

The ground begun to tremble underneath them and Mary fell to her knees. The house next to them started to make all kinds of noises as its very foundation begun to shake. She watched her brother for a moment and with her angelic eyes she examined his grace. It was angry and it burned with fury. But through it, behind it, his soul was aching with pain and confusion. It was the same pain she was feeling.

Mary got to her feet and walked toward her little brother, using her grace to move against the wave of energy he was emanating. She put an arm around him and held him tightly. She wrapped her grace around both of her brothers' graces and begun to rock them like she’d seen Castiel doing when Zep got too fidgety.

“I know you’re scared, Baltz, but I’m here for you,” she whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

Slowly, the ground stopped shaking and the light begun to fade. Balthazar, still sobbing, opened his arms and hugged his sister back. She patted his back a few times, softly, and waited for the child to calm down. It gave her a moment to collect her own thoughts and fight against her own urges to succumb to panic. She turned to her grace, a timeless, already grown force within her, already mature, for strength. In times like this, when being human wasn’t enough or convenient, she could resort to her grace. She was better at it than her younger brothers.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” she whispered words of comfort, not only for Baltz’s sake, but for her own.

“Where are we, Mary?” Baltz asked again, looking up to her as he rubbed his teary eyes with the back of his hands.

“We’re…” she looked around as well, paying attention to their surroundings for the first time. Dean and Castiel had told her that when she crossed to the new universe, they’d meet another version of Bobby. It’d be same old grandpa Bobby, except there was a chance he might have no idea who they were. If that was the case, if they arrived in an universe where Mary, Zep and Baltz didn’t exist, Dean had prepared a letter explaining the situation. He could not conceive a world in which Bobby wasn’t part of their lives, he had to know the Winchesters, he just had to, so he would recognise Dean's handwriting and hopefully believe what he was reading as the truth but even if he didn't, he was sure Bobby wasn’t the kind of guy who’d hurt a child, even if it was a nephilim, or leave them standing alone in the dark with a small baby in their hands. He’d take the children in and care of them, he'd feed them and put a roof in their heads, Dean was sure of it. He’d understand, and he could ask the Winchesters and Cas of that new universe for help. And then the children would be safe, finally, until their parents came back to get them…

But as Mary looked around, dread started climbing up the back of her mind again. Some things seemed familiar; the general silhouette of the house in the dark was almost exactly the same as her grandfather’s, and right beside it, she could definitely make out the mess of cars that was the salvage yard.

She turned back around to stare at the house. She let go of Balthazar and extended a hand in the direction of the house. Light from within her provided a little illumination for the little Winchesters and both Baltz and Marry stared at the wreckage that used to be Bobby’s house in confusion.

“We’re at grandpa’s but…”

“It doesn’t look anything like grandpa’s,” Balthazar cut in.

“No, it doesn’t. It seems it... burned down or something.”

“Mary, what’s happening? How did grandpa’s house burn down so quickly?”

“It didn’t, it’s just that-” Mary sighed and contemplated her options; how could she explain travelling through universes to her 5 years old little brother? He barely understood what he was and that not everyone had powers like they did, not to mention most people didn't know that creatures like them or their father existed.

She had not-- _Dean and Cas_ had not contemplated the option that Bobby might not be there to take care of their children once they crossed over to the new universe. The Winchesters had close to no friends or allies -at least on Earth. Dean hadn’t explained to Mary what to do in case Bobby wasn’t there to help her. And now she was stuck in another universe, with a baby angel and a panicking 5 years old, out in the salvage yard in the middle of the night. She couldn’t even go into the house; it didn’t seem safe, the roof could fall on theirs heads at any moment.

“Look, Baltz. Why don’t we find a car first? We can sit there and talk while I try to make Zep sleep. He’ll be super grumpy tomorrow if he doesn’t go back to sleep. What do you say?”

The older Winchester look down at her little brother with a genuine gentle smile, trying to convince him to listen to her by appealing to his side that tried to be a good, older brother to Zep. Balthazar was usually rebellious and didn’t like to follow orders, Mary’s least of all. They made each other’s lives impossible most of the time, and their parents had to break several arguments a day… but she loved him and he trusted her, so he nodded and followed Mary as she led the way through the old, rusty cars. It was creepy out there, the only light available that of her grace, so he kept close to her, clinging to the back of her coat as she carried Zep.

“This one doesn’t look too bad, does it?” she said after passing a couple of almost totally destroyed cars. This car was an old one, its hood was opened and most parts were gone, but the inside looked pretty well maintained and the seats didn't look too bad, they'd do for a decent bed for the night.

Mary forced the driver’s door open with her grace and let Balthazar climb in first. He climbed into the back and bounced a couple of times in the seat, testing how comfortable it was. It wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t great either. Mary took off her backpack and passed it on to her brother, then sat in the driver’s seat and reclined it a little to lay more comfortably with Zep in her arms. The baby continued to complain softly, his green eyes still watery. If she didn’t calm him soon, he might start crying again.

“It’s alright, Zep, you can go back to sleep now,” she kissed his forehead and once more started to rock the baby’s grace with her own as she patted his little butt. Little by little, the powerful force within him started to settle and allowed this familiar grace to rock him to sleep.

While she continued to try to get the baby to sleep, she started explaining things to her other young brother.

“Look, Baltz. This is what I know. Papa and daddy are… fighting someone very bad, alright? And they needed us to go for a while so that we wouldn’t get hurt or get them distracted.”

She knew about Lucifer, but wasn’t sure she should explain who that was to her brother. The little girl was sure Balthazar had heard something about their evil uncle already, at least his name, but it was better not to worry him with talk of the devil being after their parents and themselves.

“But go where? Where are we?”

“We’ve travelled through space. We’re in another universe.”

Balthazar contemplated these words for a moment, then tilted his head in a very Castiel-like gesture and asked again, as though Mary had said nothing at all, “but, where are we?”

Mary sighed. “Look. It’s like…” the girl bit her lower lip, trying hard to figure out how to explain things to him. She really should have asked her parents how to explain the existence of other parallel universes to Baltz. “It’s like our lives are a story, alright? Imagine you’re writing a story. And then at some point, you write two different possible futures for your characters, yeah? First you write you have waffles for breakfast, and then you write you have eggs for breakfast instead. So, you create two different stories and they both happen at the same time. Okay? Do you understand that?”

The boy nodded, but the frown in his face seemed to be frozen in place.

“Okay, so, papa and dad are in one story, and we’re in another one right now. We’re in different stories. We were in the same story, and then you and I came to this other story. We’re in another planet, if it helps you understand. It looks the same as before, but different things have happened.”

“Like… like grandpa’s house burned down in this story and not in ours?”

“Yes, exactly! Very good, Baltz.”

The siblings smiled at each other. Seeing the boy relatively content, Mary took the chance to try to get him to sleep as well.

“Hey, why don’t you try to go to sleep a little longer? You’re going to be tired tomorrow.”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of creepy here.” Baltz looked out of the window. There were all sorts of shadows and figures in the night, and it was nowhere close to sunrise. It was ironic that such a powerful being was afraid of the dark, but after all, Balthazar was only a child in his mind and soul. “And it’s a little cold.”

“Check the backpack, maybe dad packed another blanket.”

Balthazar pulled the zippers down and took a peek inside the bag. He reached inside and started moving things around, then suddenly smiled from ear to ear.

“Mary, look!” he exclaimed as he got something out. “Daddy packed my Walkman!”

“Keep it down, Baltz, you’re gonna wake up Zep.”

The child untangled the headphones and put them over his ears. He pressed play and the familiar lullabies started to play, making the kid smile wider. It was a set of Lez Zeppelin songs turned into lullabies for kids. Lullabies versions of his favourite rock bands were the only kid-friendly music Dean could stand. Hell, he even _liked_ them, they calmed his nerves. He would rock all his children to sleep to the sound of those songs as he sang along. It was a precious bonding time for Dean, something he never got tired of. When Balthazar and Mary started recognising the real songs, it was a proud parenting moment for the oldest Winchester.

Balthazar paused and looked up to his sister again. “It’s my favourite,” he commented with fondness.

“What else is there, Baltz?”

Baltz started looking inside the backpack again, taking things out now and then; he took out a fat envelope addressed to Bobby, a few cassettes, two diapers, a bodysuit to change Zep into, one toothbrush for each kid with teeth, two packs of their favourite cookies, two jars of baby food, and, finally, in the bottom, another baby blanket. Balthazar grabbed the blanket, threw everything else back inside, and laid down across the seat with the blanket on top. Curled in on himself, the blanket covered him generously, but it would not cover Mary if she tried to use it too.

“Go to sleep, baby bro. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Don’t call me a baby,” Baltz mumbled. Facing the roof of the car, he pressed played again. He closed his eyes and pretended he could hear Dean singing along. The sweet, familiar melodies offered him the comfort he needed to relax and let his mind drift back to sleep.

It didn’t take long for Balthazar to fall asleep. Bobby usually said Dean's children didn’t sleep, they _hibernated_. They could sleep through almost anything after having gotten used to the loud roar of Baby. Dean always said it was a Winchester thing. Zep was also peacefully asleep by now. His belly softly rose and fell, following the rhythm of his breathing. It would have been soothing had Mary not been in the edge of a nervous breakdown.

When she was sure both boys were asleep beyond the point that she might accidentally awake them by being noisy, she very slowly placed Zep down on the seat next to her, covered him properly with his blanket, then headed out of the car and back to Bobby’s house. She wanted to go in, inspect the ruins of her grandparent’s house, but she’d already used her grace and was tired, and also injured. It was better to keep out of trouble.

She sat on the porch and tried to take a look at her wing. It hurt and she couldn’t cure it; grace-related injuries were much harder to heal than simple human matters of the flesh. She didn’t have the expertise nor the strength at the moment. She did heal the small cut in arm that glass had provoked, nonetheless, then clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.

“Papa. Papa, can you hear me?”

She spoke softly, a low plead in the night. No one answered.

“Papa, grandpa Bobby’s not here. What do I do? You said he’d be here…”

The emotions started building up in the young Winchester’s chest. A terrible burden had been laid on her shoulders. Her parents’ plan had a terrible flaw; they counted on Bobby so much, trusted him so deeply, loved him with such devotion, that they had never imagined the old man could be _gone_. They hadn’t wanted to think that that was even an option. They’d sent their daughter with her two little brothers off to an universe were Bobby was gone.

“Papa, where are you, _please_?” Mary begun to cry quietly. The mix that was her soul and grace begun to expand as her discomfort grew, but she was better at controlling it than little Balthazar so it didn't pose a threat to her brothers as they rested in the car.

Where were they to go? How was she going to take care of her brothers? With no money, almost no food, no adults, no place to go... Dean had packed only the essentials, thinking Bobby would provide them with the rest. 

“Castiel? Please, help me. I want to go back.”

Far away, in a dirty motel room, Cas suddenly looked up. His name had been called.

He couldn’t tell who had said it or where the voice came from. He could sense the pain in the voice that called him, could feel the cry for help. Something inside him lit up as the sweet voice spoke his name, but confusion and concern followed. Why would someone pray to him but also remain hidden? And how was that person hiding from him? Not many people could, only those with the right sigils imprinted in their bodies like the ones he’d burned into the Winchesters’ ribs, or beings with supernatural abilities like other angels or witches, demons… And could it be a coincidence that this happened so soon after the strange energy his angel senses had picked up on? No one had prayed to him in years either, only the Winchester brothers…

If working with the boys had taught him anything, it was that coincidences weren’t usually really just coincidences, but he’d promised Dean to see this business with the ghost through before they went chasing after the nephilim.

He turned to watch Dean laying in the bed; he’d gone back to sleep, followed by Sam just minutes after. Castiel wanted so badly to follow his instincts and start doing research on this case instead, but he’d promised, and he was damned if he let Dean down yet _again_. He felt this was his chance to make things right with the Winchesters, to finally earn his place beside them, beside Dean, and he truly wanted nothing more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to make a quick note on Mary. I've read several fanfiction with nephilim or Dean having human adopted children, and it's always boys. Originally, in this story, the oldest of Dean's children was going to be a boy and Mary was going to be the baby, but I decided that I for once wanted Dean to have a daughter and have her be engaged in the story as an important, strong character, despite her age. I really feel like Dean would like a daughter too, not just boys  
> . Oh, and yes, I picture her as Elle Fanning sometimes.  
> Also, there really are lullabies versions of Led Zeppelin songs, and many others rock classics. They're really cute.  
> Gifs:  
> First gif: from tumblr user destielonfire  
> Fourth gif: from tumblr user jacksnapiers, with a bit of edit done by me.  
> The rest are from random searches from google.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Cas had been discussing their options for a while. The rise of Lucifer wasn’t inevitable, but it was something to seriously consider and worry about. They hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. They were, in the end, pretty well damn unlucky people, at least compared to the normal standard.

The creatures they’d spent their whole lives fighting had decided that the Winchesters were annoying enough on their own, but since they had become friendly allies with Heaven, led by Castiel, they had become almost unstoppable. Their numbers were decreasing steadily every year and soon the hunters would succeed on their lifelong dream of ridding the Earth (well, their country, for now, really) of evil monsters. And then Castiel and Dean started having children of their own, tiny but incredibly mighty creatures that would, one day, rule Heaven and Earth together, and would for sure finally eradicate all evil from the world. They had to be stopped, at any price. There was only one big bad left they knew of that would present a real challenge to Heaven and Winchesters combined: Lucifer. Some weren’t thrilled about the idea of releasing the devil himself. He was, as everyone knew, kind of mad, delirious with a thirst of revenge against his father, and could potentially destroy the whole world… But maybe he would allow his rescuers to rule alongside him. It was a long shot, but it was either that or potentially getting extinct soon.

The Winchesters needed a plan B, in case Lucifer was, in fact, released. The evils that were trying so hard to free Lucifer were, for once, putting up a good fight now that they were working all together. Sam had explained the situation to his wife and left for a while to aid his brother. He hated being away from his family, he started missing his two girls the moment he walked out the door of their house, but this was everyone’s concern; it wasn’t just Dean’s family in the line here but the entire world. He headed to Bobby’s, where Dean and Castiel were staying with his children for the moment. Bobby liked to complain from time to time that they’d turned his house into an angel daycare, but the old grump couldn’t be happier to have the house full of people he loved; Dean he saw as his own boy for all intents and purposes and Castiel had grown on him to the point he'd become family years ago, so it was only natural to consider their children as his own grandkids.

The Winchesters and Castiel left the children at the care of Bobby and Jody quite often as they tended to more pressing matters. Balthazar loved having that much space to play, out there in the salvage yard, where he could spread his wings freely and smash old, rusty car parts. Cas popped in regularly to check on Zeppelin, making sure he didn’t blow up the house by accident, but Mary did a great job at keeping him contained.

Mary was old enough to understand something was wrong, her parents didn't usually look that concerned when they went out on hunts. Even more so, Dean wouldn’t just pull her out of school, just like that, for no reason. He knew she liked it, she was doing great and she even had a couple of friends, despite being, undoubtedly, the odd kid in class.

“But I’m going to fall behind,” she crossed her arms, angry, when her parents told them they were going to stay with Bobby for a while.

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m sorry,” Dean tried to explain. “But papa and I have things to attend to and we can’t leave you alone at home.”

It wasn’t a good enough answer. She was pissed. She kept quiet the entire ride to Bobby’s and didn’t say goodbye to her parents when they left the first time to do who knew what, they never told them anything. Overtime, her anger morphed into worry. Mary woke up early every day, waiting for Castiel to return to feed Zep in the morning, to spend some time with him. Dean came and went regularly, sometimes he was gone for days at a time. She missed them and worried about them, especially Dean. He never seemed to be injured, but she could tell he had been; there were cuts here and there in his clothes sometimes, and weird looking stains too, which looked a lot like blood. She deduced Castiel or some other angel had to be curing him before returning home. It wasn’t normal for them to be coming and going so often, and for so long. They usually took turns hunting so they could stay home and Mary could go to school. There had to be a good reason for this behaviour.

Mary came downstairs one morning to find her uncle already preparing breakfast. He looked tired as hell, but changed his expression as soon as he saw her.

“Mary! Hey, kiddo,” Sam opened his arms for her and gave her a big hug. He had so big and she was so small, he easily picked her up in her arms and swung her around. He loved that kid madly. She had a very similar personality to him and shared his love for books and research, that curious little angel girl.

“Is dad here too?”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping downstairs.”

“Oh…” Mary looked down, disappointed. She was really looking forward to spending some time with Dean.

“Yeah…” Sam’s heart ached a little at the kid’s expression. “Give him a couple of hours, alright? He drove all night to be here.”

“Okay…”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, Sam offered her a little comforting smile. He felt sorry for Mary, he knew she was on to something, a smart kid like her, but Dean didn't want to worry her with the truth. 

“Aren’t aunt Clara and Chris going to visit us too?”

Christine, Sam’s only daughter, was only a couple of years younger than Mary. Mary adored her, and Chris looked up to her. Sam’s kid was fascinated with her nephilim cousins and used to cry when she was younger because she wanted to have wings too, even though she’d never really seen her cousins’ wings. Mary would put up little shows for her; she’d made flowers around them levitate when they played in Bobby’s backyard, she’d called birds to play with them or she would appear and disappear around her cousin and tickle her. When Balthazar played with them too, Castiel would always hover around them, making sure Baltz didn’t break her cousin’s bones by accident; sometimes the little kid still had trouble measuring his strength.

“No, Mary, they aren’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because… It was better if they stayed at home.”

“Why can’t we go home? I love grandpa Bobby but… I want to go back to school.”

Sam sighed and pulled Mary into another hug, running his big hand up and down her back in an attempt to comfort her. She was tiny and skinny in the arms of her giant uncle.

“Your parents are working really hard right now, that’s all, sweetheart. They need help looking after you and your brothers.”

“Don’t lie to me, uncle Sam,” Mary said softly. Sam looked down, surprised at these words. She looked up to him and there were tears in her eyes. “I can tell there’s something wrong, I’m not a child. I can see it in your soul, and daddy’s. You’re… unhappy. _Afraid._ ”

Sam swallowed hard and hesitated. He’d told Dean a couple of times now that they should explain things, at least something, to Mary. She was suffering. Balthazar could be kept occupied and fooled by Bobby and Jody, he loved an audience and grandparents were great at providing him the attention he sought. But as much as Mary loved her grandparents, as she considered them to be so in her heart, she couldn’t be so easily fooled or distracted. Still, she helped them keep Baltz busy when he asked too many questions about their parents whereabouts or when he threatened to break into a tantrum because he demanded either Castiel or Dean came back to read him a story before bed.

“Mary… I’m sure your dad will explain the situation to you soon, okay? Now… how about some breakfast?” And with that Sam let go of her and turned away, making himself busy on purpose to end the conversation there. It wasn’t his place to have this conversation with Mary, despite how much he wanted to.

It wasn’t long after that that Castiel and Dean finally made a decision and sat down one night to have the talk with Mary.

“Sam, Bobby, could you put Zep and Baltz to bed, please?” Dean asked as they finished picking up the dirty plates after dinner.

Sam and Bobby didn’t need any further explanation, they'd been warned earlier that day.

“But, dad, it’s so early,” Balthazar pouted. “Why doesn’t Mary have to go?”

“Cause I say so, Balthazar,” Dean threw back at him, a little too harshly. He felt bad the moment he said it, but he was in a really bad mood and the words came out before he  
could stop himself. He had really hoped he wouldn’t have to have this conversation with Mary.

“We can listen to a couple of your lullabies, how about that, champ?” Sam offered with the most convincing smile he could fake as he picked up the small nephilim in his arms. Balthazar wanted to keep complaining but something in the look Castiel gave him prevented him from saying anything else. He was a cheeky little boy, but he sure was obedient too.

“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.

Before Sam left with him, though, Dean went up to him and kissed him goodnight on the forehead, rattling his hair in a silent apology for having snapped moments ago. His son gave him a small smile and waved his hand to his other father as Sam walked away with him on his arms.

Bobby placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder in support for just a second before he leaned down and took the baby from the Winchester’s arms. Zep was already in the edge of his bedtime and had started to yawn on his dad’s arms, which was usually his favourite spot to be at. He opened his eyes a little, annoyed at the disturbance, but Bobby rocked him gently in his arms and started whispering to him in a low voice, lips hovering right above the baby's forehead, driving the baby back to contentment as the older man followed Sam upstairs.

Mary look at her parents, back and forth between them, as Dean sat back down next to the angel. She had been looking forward to this conversation, but at the same time she feared what she was about to hear. Her parents weren’t usually so secretive, nor did they usually look so blue for so long.

Dean took a deep breath and turned to look at Cas for support. The angel reached out and grabbed Dean’s hand on the table. Dean let him and squeezed his hand before he turned to his daughter again.

“Mary… I know you’ve noticed… things.”

“You’ve been gone a lot,” Mary said. “And your soul looks-”

“Darker,” Castiel cut in. Mary nodded as Dean’s face fell. He’d tried so hard to keep a smile on his face in front of his children and pretend a calm mood, he hadn’t taken into consideration that Mary could read his soul.

“Well, the reason for that, honey, is that… we’re fighting something, hmm, really dangerous. And we are worried about you and your brothers. We want you to be safe.”

“Aren’t we?” Mary asked, shifting nervously in her seat. Wasn't that the whole point of staying at Bobby's?

“For now,” Castiel replied, to which Dean squeezed his hand reprovingly and shot him a dirty look. Sometimes it was as if years of living amongst humans had thought Cas nothing about tact, and he sometimes seemed to forget that his children were, in fact, just children.

“ _For now_?” Mary repeated, agitated.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, Mary, we’ve got it under control, okay?”

“Who are you fighting? I could help you.”

“Lucifer,” Cas answered at the same time Dean said, “it’s not necessary.”

This time, Dean, genuinely pissed off, let go of Cas’ hand.

“The devil?” Mary nearly yelled in a high pitched voice, eyes wide like the mood.

“Not the devil, honey, no!” Dean assured her, a nervous smile on his lips. He was torn between wanting to comfort his daughter and a strong desire to tell Cas to shut the hell up. “There are people who want to free him and we’re making sure they don’t.”

“Then let me help you! I’m strong.”

“It’s dangerous,” Castiel denied her help in a soft voice, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I’m stronger than _dad_!” she threw her arms in the air indignantly, a hand stretched out towards her human father.

“You’re ten, Mary!” Dean threw back at her. “Zep is stronger than me too, should I send him off to fight too?”

Mary opened her mouth but after a moment the girl just closed it again, folding her arms over her chest, jaw clenched. Castiel monitored her grace, making sure she wouldn’t lash out and hurt Dean accidentally. He trusted Mary, she was becoming stronger and more disciplined everyday, but this subject was sensitive and their daughter was hurting, which could cause for her to lose control… 

“Look, sweetheart,” Dean sighed, trying to compose his tone. He wasn’t there to fight her daughter or to upset her. “We just want to explain something to you, alright?”

“What?”

“It’s not very likely to happen, alright? But there might come a time in which you and your brothers will have to leave grandpa’s house too.”

“And go where?”

“To another universe,” Cas answered without preamble. 

Mary stared at them for a couple of seconds, dumbstruck, unfolding her arms absentmindedly.

“I know uncle Sam told you about the time we went to that universe without any magic or supernatural things, remember?” Dean spoke again. He was mad at Castiel and preferred explaining things himself.

“Yeah,” Mary nodded. “But you’re not gonna send me there, are you?”

Suddenly the thought of losing her powers terrified her. She didn’t want to give up that part of her. And would her wings fall out? The thought made her sick in the stomach.

“No, not that one. To another one. If it even happens, we’d need you to cross the portal with your brothers and wait for us there until it’s safe for us to get you.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” the girl knelt in her chair, leaning closer to her parents with her elbows on the table.

“No, sweetheart. We’d stay here to fight.”

“No!” Mary cried, banging her fists on the table. “I’m not going anywhere without you!”

As Mary’s grace begun to expand, Cas kept a close eye on it as the conversation continued.

“It’d be for a while. Just until it’s safe for you to return.”

“Don’t lie to her, Dean,” Cas told him in a calm yet ominous tone.

Both Mary and Dean turned their heads in his direction. By now, Dean was furious, the angel was doing more damage than help.

“Look, Mary,” Cas said, ignoring the way Dean was looking at him, like he wanted to murder him with his eyes, “this is for your own protection. When you cross the portal, you’ll be at Bobby’s house, just in another universe. He’ll take care of you and your brothers, hopefully Jody will be there too. If Lucifer rises, we will fight him. If we win, we’ll come and get you.”

“And if you don’t?” Mary started to cry, jaw shaking. “Papa, I can help you! I’m strong! I don’t want to leave you!”

Mary jumped from her chair and ran to the angel, who opened his arms to welcome her. Dean was breathing heavily, an ugly mix of emotions making his stomach feel sick. He was so angry at Cas, he couldn’t wait to be alone with him and do some proper yelling, but at the same time he was busy dying inside a little while he watched his daughter cry.

“We’ve fought the devil before, Mary, and we defeated him. We can do it again.”

“He’s not even out of the cage, yet, sweetheart,” Dean said as he stroked her hair.

“I’m sorry to be asking this of you,” Cas whispered into her ear. “We wouldn’t if we thought there was a better way. But we can’t put you and brothers in danger. We love you too much.”

“I love you too,” Mary sobbed into his chest.

It took a while before Mary calmed down and Castiel put her to bed. In the basement, Dean was waiting in the panic room, pacing around as he waited for the angel. They’d turned it into something relatively decent, so they could sleep there when they visited without feeling like they were in some kind of prison. Cas knew exactly what he was walking into as Dean stood by their bed, his hands on his hips. If looks could kill...

“What the hell, Cas?” he yelled as soon as he laid eyed on the angel. “That was not what we’d agreed on!”

“We didn’t agree on anything, Dean,” Cas closed the door behind him in a foolish attempt to keep the whole house from hearing Dean's yelling. He kept his voice calm and low in contrast to Dean’s, which only angered the human even further. “You demanded that I didn’t tell our daughter the truth and I made no such promises.”

“And look how well that turned out! She must be worried sick!”

“The devil could rise again, Dean. She _should_ be worried.”

“No, she shouldn’t! She’s a child!”

“That’s not going to keep bad things from happening to her,” Cas’ own voice started to rise now.

Dean was making all kinds of crazy efforts to stop himself from shoving Cas against the wall.

“You made her cry!”

“And what do you think she’d do if you sent her away and never went back to get her, huh?” Castiel got right in Dean’s face, his face contorted with a mix of pain and anger of his own. “I’m not going to lie to her. We could _die_ , Dean,” Cas’ lower lip trembled. There was a moment of tense silence in which they stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Their masks fell of completely. This was the most worried and nervous they’d been in their entire lives. It wasn’t just their lives at risk anymore. Their children… Their precious children were the most important thing in the entire universe. In _all_ universes. “And I’m fine with that, I am, if they are safe somewhere else. But she deserves to know. I- I don’t want them to think we’ve abandoned them.”

“Cas…” Dean’s tone and expression changed completely as he visibly deflated. Anger turned into understanding as he saw his own pain and fears reflected in the angel he loved. He reached for his lover’s hand and intertwined their fingers tenderly.

“If we never go back for them, I want my children to know why, Dean. I want them to know that I tried, that I gave my life for them and that I would had come back for them if I had the chance.”

“We’re not going to die. We’ll find a way. We always do.”

“You don’t know that, Dean,” Cas moved his head from side to side, looking down at his feet. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The time indeed came when Castiel and Dean found themselves against a rock and a hard place, and decided to finally send their children away. It’d been two days since the children had crossed the portal to the new universe and no one was coming to aid them.

Mary sat in the porch once more, watching Balthazar play around in the salvage yard. Zep was sitting awkwardly on the ground, over his blanket, and was ripping grass and throwing it around, occasionally making it levitate by accident. The baby watched the grass, suspended in the air, and shrieked with delight. Meanwhile, Mary was lost in thought.

She remembered Castiel explaining that he wouldn’t be able to listen to her prayers through universes, but that she could contact the one that lived in the new one. Mary tried, she even tried calling him by his name, but the angel was a no-show. Balthazar also tried praying to his father, even after Mary told him it’d be useless. He prayed over and over again, and eventually started to cry when no response came.

“Why won’t he answer?” he sobbed as Mary rushed to him to comfort him, afraid he’d cause another earthquake. “He always answers.”

“I don’t know, Baltz.”

Mary was finding it increasingly hard to keep Balthazar busy and content. Smashing cars was beginning to get boring for the kid and they had run out of food the very first day. After that, she'd started feeding her brothers with her own grace, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to eat something real herself. She would also grow increasingly weaker if her brothers kept feeding on her so often, and she needed her strength to protect them in this weird, lonely universe.

The child also realised she would require her grace to do basically everything for Zep. Sure, she had diapers, but there were only _two_ , and she had nothing to wipe him clean with. And frankly, she also didn’t want to, it was gross. With a simple movement of her hand, little Zep was as clean as new. But again, there went another misuse of grace. How long was she going to be able to keep that up? Her human needs decreased in intensity little by little as she grew, but she still had them, still needed to eat sometimes.

They needed to go somewhere else, somewhere they could get help or food, and they needed to go _now_. She considered her options… There really wasn’t that many people she knew. Grandpa Bobby was nowhere to be found… Castiel wouldn’t respond to their prayers… Uncle Sam and Dean could be anywhere… She couldn’t remember exactly where aunt Jody lived, they usually met her at Bobby’s… That only left her friends from school, one in particular, her best-friend Jessie, but Mary wondered if he’d recognise her at all in this universe. She wondered where the other versions of themselves were in this universe and how odd it’d be to run into them. She even tried praying to this universe's version of herself but, once again, no one answered.

There weren’t too many hours left before nighttime. She had to make a choice. Wait there, keep praying and hope that grandpa Bobby might eventually show up, or take matters into her own hands…

“Baltz!” she called her brother as she got to her feet with resolution. “Baltz, come here!”

The boy’s head appeared from between the wrecked cars. “What?”

“We’re leaving. Come on.”

“Really?”

The boy ran to her, a wide smile in his face.

“Yeah.”

Balthazar giggled, delighted, and looked around, waiting for something to happen. Mary picked up Zep from the ground and threw the blanket over her shoulder. She observed her brother from a moment, and then shifted uncomfortably as she understood his source of happiness.

“Oh… No, we’re not going back _home_ ,” she clarified.

“Why not?” Balthazar’s face dropped.

“Because- I don’t know, we just can't for now. Look, we’re going into town, alright?”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head and looking like a tiny version of their father. Mary's chest ached with longing.

“To look for food.  _And_ clothes,” she added as she looked down at her pyjamas. She was kind of tired of them, they didn't do a good job keeping her warm at night. She could keep herself from feeling cold with a little use of grace, but, again, it was a matter of saving resources.

“No, I want to stay here. How will papa and dad find us if we leave?”

“We’ll pray.”

“We have prayed and he’s not coming.”

“That’s because that’s not our papa, Baltz. He’s still not in this universe.”

“What do you mean he’s not our papa?”

Mary closed her eyes and sighed. The boy had understood the travelling through universes thing the first time she’d explained it, but it seemed he couldn’t retain the idea for too long.

“Look, just trust me, alright? Dad put me in charge, remember? We’ll go shopping, get some food, if you’re good I’ll let you take some toys. But let’s just go, yes?” Mary extended a hand in invitation.

She had him at the mention of toys. Balthazar smiled and took her hand, and together the Winchesters set off for the city of Sioux Falls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for the kudos and just in general for reading. If you like the story, I'd love to hear some opinions in the comments (:  
> I'll try to update as often as I can, but because I should also be a responsable adult and give university my attention, I will probably tone down my posting habits to twice a week. I've a bad tendency of getting carried away posting too much and studying to little.

The ghost had been handled without any major inconveniences or delays and Team Free Will had decided to head back to the bunker to deal with this new nephilim issue. They had no real leads, just the knowledge that a nephilim had come to be, so there was no point wasting money on a motel room when they could just head home.

Castiel had been unusually quiet and distracted for the past few days, Dean thought. He’d caught the angel more than once sitting alone in the motel room, his eyes closed with a puzzled look in his face, his brows knitted in concentration, which gave the Winchesters the feeling that Cas was trying very hard to perceive or listen to something. But whenever Dean asked, Castiel shrugged it off and got down to business with them.

There wasn’t just one, but two people praying for Castiel now. He’d heard a second voice in the last couple of days, a boy it seemed. Cas felt he was very distressed, just as the girl who had called him the first time. He wanted to help them, the angel could feel their innocence and the honesty in their call for help. He’d go to them if he could, but for some reason he still couldn’t locate either child, no matter how hard he tried. The angel couldn’t understand who these people were, couldn’t think of a connection between them and himself. It had to be someone he knew for they were praying  _specifically_ to him, calling him by his name and all. The only child he'd come into relevant contact with since he'd come down to Earth again and who knew who and what he was, had been Jimmy Novak’s daughter, and she was all grown by now and living with Jody, so it couldn't be her. These prayers were directed to him, they demanded the angel's help like he owed them somehow, as if there were some kind of bond between them and he was failing them, but he could not think of a single being out there who might want _his_  particular help.

The Winchesters noticed Cas’ distraction, but didn’t make any comments about it to him. Instead, they used it to their advantage. They left the angel alone in the motel room one night and headed out with the excuse that they wanted to grab a bite before hitting the road. Sam hadn’t been able to get the nephilim matter out of his head since day one and sometimes he found himself distressed as he imagined a woman out there, pregnant, running away from a series of rabid angels trying to kill her. It wasn’t right. Nobody deserved a death sentence just because they _might_ be dangerous, not without ever being given the chance to probe they weren’t.

“Dean, we need to talk,” Sam said as soon as they made their orders and the waitress left them alone.

“I know,” Dean sighed. “You’re still thinking about the nephilim, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s not right, killing a pregnant woman.”

Dean stared out the window as he thought.

He agreed with Sam, of course he did, he too had been having trouble stomaching the idea of hunting and killing a pregnant woman. Or angel. The later option didn’t make it easier to picture, no matter how much he disliked them. And even if they waited until the baby was born, he still refused to be the kind of man that would murder a child, a still innocent baby. How Castiel could do that so easily, it upset Dean. Their friend had been so sure about the path that had to be followed to resolve the problem, it reminded Dean of the days when Castiel followed Heaven’s orders blindly and he didn't like it one bit. It was wrong and Cas had to know it was.

But Dean couldn’t deny that he was worried too. What if the angel having this child wasn’t a good one? What if they trained and used the child for evil purposes later on? What about the mother who would die at birth?

“I think…” Dean turned to his brother once more, “I think we should try to find her and also work on way to save her from childbirth.”

“If that’s even possible. You heard Cas.”

“Yeah, I heard a bunch of things I didn’t like from Cas,” Dean mumbled.

“And what if we can’t save the mother? What do we do then, with the baby?”

Dean took a deep breath.

“I’ve no idea, Sammy… We’ll think about that later. We need to find some way to get Cas on our side.”

“Dean, are you serious?” Sam snorted humorlessly. “I don’t think he’s going to change his mind.”

“Well, he’s gonna have to, okay?” Dean insisted, jaw clenched. “I’m tired of secrets or half-truths, of one of us always acting behind each other’s backs. I’m done with that, I don’t want to lie to Cas anymore.”

“You’ll be putting two lives in danger, Dean.”

“We don’t even know where to start looking, we have time to get him on our side.”

Sam shook his head in disapproval, still not convinced that the angel's mind could be changed, but said nothing further.

Both remained rather quiet after that and ate their dinners without making much conversation. Dean didn’t even try to pick up the waitress, Sam noticed. Hell, he didn’t even look in her direction. He simply stared out the window most of the time, looking concerned. There were times when Dean seemed to get tired and didn’t even try to pretend he was fine, like he mostly did his entire life. Dean had grown quieter too lately, and Sam wondered if his brother even noticed it. The whole thing with the mark of Cain, being a demon temporarily and then Amara had really taken a toll on Dean, and Sam was worried that his brother was bottling up feelings again, which had a tendency of biting Dean in the ass eventually.

The youngest Winchester felt this whole nephilim thing very close to his heart. He too had been hunted and discriminated for having been marked at birth, and it wasn’t fair. Dean was right, he too was tired of being secretive and hiding his true intentions, but he couldn’t risk Castiel hurting the child or the mother if they didn’t manage to convince him to spare the infant’s life. So, when he found news of strange seismic activity in South Dakota the same night and around the same time Castiel felt the presence of the nephilim, he kept it to himself. A strong and very localised but inexplicable earthquake had been felt in the outskirts of Sioux Falls. It hadn’t caused any major damages, but it sure surprised the people that lived around the zone and the scientists that tried to explain what had happened. What really caught Sam’s attention was the precise spot in which the earthquake had originated: right around the zone where the ruins of Bobby’s house and the salvage yard stood. Sam felt in his heart that it couldn’t be a coincidence, something was going on there. Maybe it was related to the nephilim, maybe not, but it was too much a coincidence that the earthquake had happened at the same time the angels became aware of the presence of the nephilim, and in a location that hold so much meaning to them. Sam decided to look into it, maybe even drive there, but he wouldn’t trust the information to Castiel or his brother, in case it led to some useful information on the nephilim.

The brothers came back to the motel, packed their things and hit the road with Cas on the back of the Impala. Old classics of Deep Purple were the chosen background music and Dean tried to lose himself in the familiar rhythms, made a great effort to think in nothing but the lyrics, but he kept staring at Cas through the rear-view mirror and it bothered him to catch the angel, once again, with that constipated look in his face.

“Alright, Cas, that’s enough. Will you _please_ tell us what’s up with you?” Dean’s tone came out more demanding and annoyed that he'd intended to, but it was a true reflection of his feelings. There he was, telling Sam they were going to do things by the book with their friend, and Cas was, yet _again_ , keeping information from him. It drove him mad. Years, _years_ they’d been keeping secrets from each other, plotting from the shadows, feeding each other half truths. Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He was all in, for better or for worse, in the good and in the bad times, and wanted to feel the same commitment from the angel. He needed it, he needed his family closer than ever.

Sam looked up from his phone and shot his brother a look of surprised.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Cas answered distractedly.

“I’d like to be the judge of that, thank you.”

Cas finally turned to catch Dean's eyes through the mirror, apparently annoyed by his friend's tone. “I don’t need to tell you everything, Dean, just like you don’t tell me everything."

To this, Dean turned around on his seat, genuinely pissed off by the snarky reply.

“Now what is that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, watch the road!” Sam pushed Dean’s shoulder to turn him back around.

“I’m not stupid, Dean. That wasn’t as smooth as you thought, you two leaving for dinner together,” Cas looked back and forth between them, and Sam guiltily avoided his eyes, turning back around on purpose. “You both have conveniently forgotten about the nephilim these past two days, huh? If you’re going to do things behind my back, at least don’t be a hypocrite about it.”

“For your information, Cas,” Dean started angrily, shooting glances at the angel through the mirror, “it was Sam who suggested we ditched you, not me.”

“ _Dude_!” Sam shot his brother a dirty look.

“But I said no. I said we stick together, goddammit. For _once_.” Dean hit the steering wheel, and almost immediately after mumbled a gentle apology to his Baby under his breath. He exhaled long and slowly as he searched for the right words. “Look, I don’t agree with you, you know that, I’m not killing a baby, Cas. After what I-,” Dean stopped abruptly and swallowed hard, thinking of all the awful things he'd done not too long ago while under the effects of the mark of Cain. He couldn't keep doing things like that, things that poisoned his soul and kept him up at night with remorse. "After all we’ve been through… You can’t ask that of me, man. But we have time, we can work together and find a solution that lets the both of us sleep at night.”

“I don’t-”

“ _I know, I know_ , you don’t sleep,” Dean rolled his eyes with irritation, “it was just a saying. Look, Cas. I need you to be honest with me, man. I’m on your side, always. Are you in mine?”

Dean couldn’t look at Cas while he waited for an answer, but it wasn’t necessary, he could feel the angel’s eyes on the back of his neck. He had the feeling that if the angel were able to fly away to avoid giving him an answer, he would, just like he used to do. Although he was sorry for the state his friend’s wings were in, he didn’t miss Castiel bailing on a conversation when he didn’t like the direction it took.

Castiel considered Dean’s words for a moment. _I’m on your side, always._ The words played in his mind like a broken record and rendered him slightly out of breath. Dean Winchester didn’t often express affection verbally, so the angel treasured those moments in which he did, even if it was in a discreet manner. Nonetheless, at the same time, they left him feeling bitter somehow, as a thirsty man in the desert who comes across a single drop of water. His insides longed for more, something that he tried very hard to keep his mind from thinking about. It was one of those alien, forbidden wishes and urges that his time on Earth had awoken in him and then had intensified after he became human for a while.

It didn’t always feel like that, his actions sometimes seemed contradictory, but Cas knew Dean meant what he'd said. Cas too had acted behind Dean’s back in several occasions, but in his heart, he had always hoped that his decisions, his actions, led to a brighter future for his friends, whatever the cost.

So yes, he was on Dean’s side. He’d always be in Dean’s side.

“Yes,” the angel easily answered. “Of course I am.”

Dean nodded, a fraction of a smile venturing into his lips, although his eyes kept looking somewhat sad.

Sam looked at his brother from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss that small smile. There weren’t that many things that made Dean smile lately, but Cas seemed to be one of them. The younger brother looked away, shifting in his seat. It was one of those times in which he felt slightly out of place, like someone who isn’t supposed to be witnessing an intimate moment between other people. Dean always threw Cas on the ‘family-bag’ with the label of ‘brother’, but Sam couldn’t help but feel, wonder, if there maybe wasn’t something more between them… For a long time, it seemed like a crazy idea to him, but he couldn’t help but notice there was a difference between his interactions with Castiel and Dean’s interactions with the angel. Sometimes, it was little things, like the way they looked at each other for slightly longer than normal, or the way Cas addressed Dean more than Sam in conversations that held more emotional depth or when he tried to talk about his feelings; sometimes, it was more noticeable things, like the amount of times Dean and Cas hugged or touched compared to the amount of times Sam and the angel did, the way Sam caught Dean staring at Cas' lips. Something, Sam didn’t know what, felt different.

“Alright, then,” Dean said in a softer tone. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Sam remained quiet, guilt making its way to his mind. Once again, he found himself making plans behind his brother's back and Dean would be furious if he found out. He hated lying to Dean, but he wouldn’t help Cas until he was absolutely sure the angel wouldn’t hurt the nephilim or the pregnant mother.

Elsewhere, three even younger Winchesters walked by the side of the road. It was getting dark and they still hadn’t reached any store yet. Mary had one place in mind, a shopping mall she’d visited a couple of times while she stayed at her grandpa’s. She’d already planned everything; they’d wait until it was dark and the mall closed, she’d ask Balthazar to get them in and then they’d look for what they needed, nothing more if she could avoid it. She didn’t love the idea of stealing, but she had no money and her parents had trusted her to take care of her brothers. What they’d do afterwards, she wasn’t sure.

Of course, on the top of the list of possibilities, was travelling all the way back home. Then, she still had Jessie, her best-friend, in mind, and she could try uncle Sam’s home too, but she’d have to go all the way back to Lawrence for either of these first three options, and she knew that was at least one State away. In the other hand, the only other option she could think of was the Men of Letter's bunker, and that was also in Kansas. She’d lived there for a short period of time during her childhood, right after her parents discovered its existence until a couple of years before Balthazar was born, when Dean decided he wanted his children to live in a place slightly homier and less dangerous; the bunker was, after all, full of old, magical artefacts that could be potentially dangerous for children, grace or no grace, and Mary had reached that age in which she ran all over the place, opened all doors and played with anything she could get her hands on. Also, it wasn’t exactly a place where Mary could have friends over when she started school.

The kids didn’t fly much, they weren’t very good at it. Their grace was timeless, ageless, and came to be fully grown while their bodies and minds where still developing. It was hard to coordinate their wings in synchronisation with their relatively weaker human bodies. Balthazar wasn’t very coordinated even with his human body alone. Mary could fly a couple of kilometres at a time, no more, and it left her feeling weird in the stomach, while her brother only managed to fly across a couple of short meters and he usually ended up throwing up right after he landed. With her wing injured, Mary thought she’d rather not risk it; Balthazar would have to take one for the team.

Balthazar was tired of walking not long after they’d started and started to complain right away.

“Mary,” he huffed, dragging his feet, “I’m tired. I want to sit down.”

“We’ve stopped twice already, Balthazar,” Mary pointed out and kept going, even though she too wanted to stop and rest. Zeppelin was fidgety and it was bad enough dealing with his baby brother, carrying him for hours, she wasn’t going to bear carrying Balthazar as well. “We’re close, I promise.”

“But I’m _really_ tired.”

“I swear, it’s just a little longer.”

Ahead of them, a car was approaching towards them. Balthazar looked up and smiled.

“Look, a car! We could ask for a ride!” he said cheerfully and walked closer to the edge of the road, waving his arms over his head to catch the driver’s attention.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” Mary turned quickly and placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. The little boy kept waving his arms, and though the car slowed down for a moment as it passed the point where they were standing, it kept going. Balthazar saw the confused look in the driver’s face, but the man seemed to be looking right through them, then kept driving away. “Hey! Come back! Why didn’t he stop?”

“Cause I made us invisible, dummy.”

“Why would you do that?” Balthazar shrugged her hand off his shoulder, frowning.

“What do you think people do when they see children alone in the road? He wasn’t going to take us to the mall! He’d probably call the police or something.”

Mary turned and kept walking, and Balthazar unwillingly followed her, more out of fear of staying alone while the sun was setting than anything else. He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, kicking stones to channel his frustrations as he walked behind his siblings.

“Maybe the police could help us find dad. He works with them, doesn’t he?” The boy remembered Dean dressed up nicely in a suit a bunch of times, talking about visiting police stations to make inquiries, or talking about something called the FBI, whatever that was. Jody was a policeman too, and she was their family.

“No, they wouldn’t. The police don’t know dad’s real name, Baltz. He only pretends to be a cop. Like an actor. And we’re not supposed to say we’re Winchesters, remember? You can’t forget that,” Mary turned to give him a serious look.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Mary sighed impatiently, “it’s safer.”

“Why? What’s wrong with being a Winchester?”

“Nothing, Baltz. It’s just that… Dad’s got enemies, okay? The monsters he hunts don’t like him, so they don’t like us either.”

Balthazar looked around the forest. It was growing dark by the minute. He hurried to get closer to Mary.

“So… we’ve got enemies too?”

Mary didn’t miss the edge of fear in his voice. She bit her lip, wondering if maybe she had said too much. The last thing she needed was to make Balthazar panic; she had enough trying not to do that herself.

“Well, yeah,” she replied. “But they don’t know us, so we’re safe, okay? But remember, if anyone asks you, your surname is Singer, alright? Like grandpa’s. Never tell anyone dad’s name.”

“And papa? What’s papa’s name?”

“Papa doesn’t have a surname, dummy. Angels don’t have surnames.”

“I knew that! Don’t call me dummy,” Balthazar replied irritably while his cheeks went pink.

“Then why did you ask?” Mary rolled her eyes. Baltz's pout only intensified and he remained quiet, momentarily angry with his sister. If their parents were there, he'd tell on her, she wasn't supposed to call him names.

The road took a turn and, at long last, they could see the lights of the city not too far ahead. The shopping mall in the edge of town was right in sight. Mary smiled, relieved; she was finally going to be able to eat.

“Look, Baltz, the mall!” she commented happily to encourage her brother to continue.

But the boy wasn’t too happy about the distance that still had to be covered and by the expression on his face, it seemed he was in the verge of tears.

“Oh, come on, we’ll get the toys first, I promise,” Mary offered him her hand again; watching her brother cry always got the best in her. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her brother, and if someone understood how he felt, it was her; she too was tired and confused, hungry and moody.

Balthazar wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, then took his sister’s hand once more and kept moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GIF sources: (tumblr users) whoeveryoulovethemost ; themegalosaurus ; frozen-delight ; super-sootica  
> I've learned to make gifs so there probably will be some made by my at some point, that's how much I enjoy making this story.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, Cas, let’s go through it one more time.”

Dean turned his chair in the angel’s direction and took a sip of his beer, as did Sam and Castiel.

  
Dean was exhausted, it was really late, almost early in the morning really, but he wanted to hear what his friend had to say before he went to bed; after he hit the sack, he wasn’t waking up any time soon and he wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible; no more secrets, no more half truths, every useful piece of information had to be laid out in the open.

Cas sighed. “Dean, there’s no much more to tell you, honestly.”

“Just humour me, alright? When did it happen, exactly?”

“It happened twice… First, it was a girl. Then a boy.”

“Children, then?”

“Yes.”

“And what did they say?”

“They called my name. The girl asked for my help, she said she wanted to go back.”

“Go back where?”

Cas shrugged. “She didn’t say.”

“And the boy?” Sam asked.

“He just called my name, several times. He… he was crying. I could feel their suffering.”

The three of them fell silent for a moment. None of them loved the idea of upset children all but begging for help and not getting it.

“And the first time they called you was the night you found out about the nephilim?”

“Yes.”

Another silence followed. Dean and Sam weren’t fond of coincidences. It had to be related, it _had_ to. But _how_?

“Cas, maybe an old friend of yours took a child as a vessel and they’re asking for your help?” Sam wondered.

“No, it’s not one of my brethren, I can tell. And they wouldn’t hide if they wanted my help. I don’t really have that many friends left in Heaven anyway, I don’t see why an angel would seek my help.”

“Why would _anyone_ ask for help and not tell you where they are?” Dean took a sip of beer and put his feet on the desk, gaining a dirty look from his brother which he chose to ignore.

“I don’t know, Dean. I told you, there’s not much to tell. I’ve been trying to find them, but they’ve stopped praying.”

Dean’s stomach twisted with stress; what if something had happened to those children and that was why they’d stopped praying?

“I don’t understand,” Cas suddenly stood up, frustrated. “They _know_ my name. They know I’m an angel. It has to be someone who knows me, but I don’t know any children.”

“A relative of Jimmy, maybe?”

“I don’t think so. Claire is with Jody and Amelia…” Cas paused. This was still something that made his gut burn with guilt. When he took Jimmy’s body, it wasn’t just his life he stole; the angel ruined his entire family’s lives. “Amelia didn’t have other children. And I doubt either of them told their family about me.”

“Okay, so a mysterious couple of children who know you but you don’t know them are calling for your help?”

“In summary, yes.”

Dean finished his beer. He didn’t like where this was going. Whenever children were involved in a case, Dean’s anxiety went up through the roof. It made his heart ache when children were in danger, more than anything else. He knew what it was like, how much it scarred you, forever, whenever the supernatural struck your life when you were a child. Adults could move past it, they were more resilient, they could go back to their normal lives if they tried hard enough, pretend they forgot about it, but as a child… You could never forget, you looked at shadows differently, you became suspicious of everything. Fear moulded you, became a part of you, to prepare you so your guard was never down again.

“Maybe they’re afraid another angel will hear them,” Sam spoke but more to himself than to the others. “Maybe these kids know something about the nephilim. It can’t be coincidence they called you on the same night.”

“Again, I don’t know why they’d ask for my help in that case. My take on how to handle the nephilim is the same as any of my brothers’.”

“Maybe they thought you’d be different. More human, more forgiving.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at the not very subtle hint of accusation in Sam’s words, then run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Cas said, tilting his head to the side, eyebrows drawn together, “I didn’t know there was a policy for sparing dangerous but cute creatures.”

“It’s a baby!” Sam got up too, walking away dramatically, then turning around. “You’re telling me you’d really kill a baby, Cas?”

“I’d do whatever it took to keep you two safe, yes.”

“But we agreed we wouldn’t, alright?” Dean stood up and positioned himself between the two of them, shooting warning glances in both directions. “We’re going to find a way to avoid killing anybody,” Dean looked in Cas’ direction, and then at his brother, “and we’re going to help Cas find the mother before the baby’s born.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, much like he’d done earlier at the diner. The more they talked, the more convinced he was he had to find the mother before Castiel and Dean did. The angel still seemed dangerously prone to murder, and Sam wouldn’t have it.

“Why do you keep assuming it’s a woman?” Cas suddenly asked, with a tone that was surprisingly annoyed.

Dean turned around, his expression half confused and half amused.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he babbled, “but, err-, when a woman and a man-”

“I know how human reproduction works, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, tone not short of irritation. It annoyed him when humans were so narrow-minded. “This is human _and_ angel reproduction.”

“So? You still need- you know-”

“No, you don’t. It could be a female human pregnant, or it could be a female _or_ male angel pregnant.”

Both Dean and Sam stared at the angel with confusion, trying hard to imagine what a pregnant male angel would look like, much to Castiel’s annoyance.

“How would _that_ work?” Dean asked, suppressing an urge to snort.

“Angels can reproduce with humans physically or through a bonding of grace and soul. The male angel could then become, in your terms, pregnant,” at this last word the angel raised his hands to make air quotes and this time Dean couldn't help the corner of his lips curving up; he loved it when Cas used air quotes, he found it hilarious.

“A bonding of grace and soul?” Sam leaned in with curiosity, nearly forgotten their previous outburst. “How’d that work?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never done it, Sam. In theory, a piece of grace and a piece of soul are torn from their owners to create new life, which then the angel guards within themselves until… I don’t now, I suppose until the nephilim is powerful enough to give itself a physical form. They can choose their own gender and even change it, so it'd be wise to find the nephilim before they're born since they can change their appearance.”

“You have to give a piece of your soul? That sounds painful." Dean brought a hand to his chest as if trying to protect his soul from being ripped from him.

“The bonding is actually supposed to be very pleasurable,” Cas shrugged.

And there, Sam saw it, it lasted a fucking tiny second, not more, but Dean looked down at the angel’s lips. _Why?_   Why did he do that, just as Castiel said ‘pleasurable’?

“So… Angel sex?” Dean smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, to which Castiel merely rolled his eyes again in response. “Kinky.”

Sam ran a hand down his face and sighed as he watched Dean smiling smugly yet flexing his arms' muscles and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a sign Sam had learned to interpret as slight embarrassment coming from Dean. The underlying but very real sexual tension between his brother and the angel made him uncomfortable.

“Dean, focus, please? It’s late.”

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. He tried to remember they werein a serious situation; again, there were a bunch of stuff happening they needed to resolve, and quickly. “So, we’ve got two problems in our hands. The nephilim and these kids. I’m not going to be able to relax until I know those children are safe.”

Sam and Castiel nodded in agreement.

“I say we sleep a couple of hours, Cas can start looking through the lore, try to find something useful to find these kids or track the nephilim, and as soon as we find anything, we head out. _Together_.”

The younger Winchester didn’t look at his brother when he nodded without honesty. He didn’t want to look in Dean’s eyes as he lied to him. He knew he’d be leaving and soon, to check out what had happened in Sioux Falls, and Dean was not going to like it one bit.

“Alright, I’m going to bed then,” he announced. With a courteous nod, he left the room.

“Yeah, I’m going too, I’m exhausted” Dean agreed.

“Dean, wait-” Cas moved to stand next to him before Dean followed after his brother. “I just… I just wanted to thank you. You know, for _not_ ditching me.”

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean gently touched his arm. “We’re a team, we’ve gotta stick together, right? Even when we disagree.”

“Right,” Cas smiled. Dean couldn't help but stare at him with a dumb look in his face, his guard down with exhaustion.

 _Damn, he looks good,_  he thought, and was immediately embarrassed by the thought. _Stop that_ , he ordered himself, clenching his fists and then opening them nervously.

"Yeah, so, hmm, good night, Cas," he patted him in the arm again, rather awkwardly this time, and walked away, leaving the angel staring after him.

* * *

By the time the little Winchesters finally reached the mall, Balthazar was in the edge of a meltdown. _Again_. Both children leaned against the tall,glass doors and sighed. It was damn late and it was getting cold. Zep had fallen asleep in Mary’s arms a while ago, after being fed with her grace. By now, Mary was starving. She’d barely had anything to eat these past few days, she slept like crap, waking early to handle Zeppelin, she’d fed her brothers and herself with her grace several times and also used it to keep herself from getting too physically tired and cold. It wasn’t that Mary wasn’t strong enough to do all these things, but she wasn’t at all used to consuming this much grace, especially on an empty stomach. She needed food and she needed it now.

“It’s closed!” Balthazar exclaimed, looking inside the empty mall with wide eyes, his breath misting the glass door. There were a couple of lights on here and there, but it was obviously closed and empty by now. The child was about to lose it.

“That’s the way we like it, Baltz,” Mary placed a hand in his shoulder. “We have no money. We’re going to have to, err, _borrow_ some stuff.”

“I didn’t know you could do that in the mall,” his brother looked up at her, confused. She faked a smile and nodded.

“Sure you can, but no one can see us do it.”

The middle brother narrowed his eyes. “It sounds like stealing to me.”

Mary almost laughed at the expression in his face. “Look, just get us inside.”

“Who, me?” the child raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was usually ordered not to fly, since it made him sick. Dean had grown tired of cleaning after him when Cas wasn't around to do it with his grace.

“Yeah, you. You messed up my wing, it’s not healed yet.”

Mary winced as she tried to move her injured wing to show him why she couldn't do it herself. The kid grimaced, a sincere guilty look on his face, and looked down at his feet as he pulled from the hem of his pyjamas. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you didn't do it on purpose,” Mary gently squeezed his shoulder and smiled, showing her brother she had no hard feelings. “But I need you to get us in, okay?”

“But it makes my tummy hurt,” Balthazar patted his stomach and pouted.

“It’s either that or we stay out here all night.”

Balthazar sighed. Mary offered her hand and he took it, and a moment later, they were inside. Zep woke up instantly and started to cry; the baby did not like flying one tiny bit, his immature organs still too sensitive for it to be comfortable. His cries echoed through the empty corridors like an anti-theft alarm.

“Dammit,” Mary sighed and started to pat his brother in the back. “I’m sorry, Zep, it’s okay.”

Balthazar let go of her hand and bent over to vomit in the ground, accidentally spilling some on his shoes.

“Ah, shit,” Mary jumped back, nose wrinkled in disgust. She waved her hand to clean her brother with her grace, then ran her hand up and down his back softly a couple of times. “Are you alright?”

The boy looked up as he hugged his stomach, tears in his eyes. “I’m tired,” he sobbed.

“I know, I know, just-”

“Hey!”

The Winchesters jumped and turned around towards the voice that called them. There was a large security guard hurrying towards them, flashlight in hand blinding them. He didn’t look or sound too friendly, so Balthazar hid behind his sister to keep out of sight.

“What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

Balthazar looked up to Mary. He looked scared and tired, the kid was a ticking time bomb of emotions. “Mary!” he cried out in fear as the strange man darted towards them.

“I’ve got it,” Mary assured him and moved forwards to confront the man.

“Kids, what are you doing he-” the man bent down to take a better look at them and, at the same time, Mary raised a hand to touch his face. The man went instantly mute and his eyes seemed to lose focus. He stared at her, frozen, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, far away from the mall.

“We’re not here. You’re not going to notice we’re here. You’ve never even seen or heard us.”

The moment her hand lost contact with his skin, the man turned around and walked away with a strange poker face frozen in place. Mary looked around her for a moment; here and there in some corners she spotted security cameras. She waved her hand and made sure those stopped working.

“Done, that’s it, we’re good,” Mary turned and gave her brother an encouraging smile, then stroked his cheek, whipping away a tear. “Come on, Baltz, let’s go get your toys, alright?”

He nodded and followed his sister. Zep kept crying even though Mary was rocking his grace with hers. She didn’t put much effort into calming him down, she knew they’d have to fly again to get into the supermarket too.

Indeed, when they reached the supermarket, the shutters were down.

Balthazar sighed. “Again?” he asked even before Mary gave the order. 

“Last time for tonight, I promise.” She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid. She had to give it to Baltz, he was being so good tonight; even though he had complained a lot, he didn’t once lose control or made a very long tantrum along the way. He was so small, after all, and he'd been using his grace to break metal car parts, he had to be super tired too.

Once more, the brothers joined hands and with the blink of an eye, they were inside. Again, Balthazar bent over and vomited. Zep started to shriek so loud it hurt to hold him so close to her ears.

“I’m sorry, Balthazar,” she patted his back in an attempt to comfort him. The kid ended up vomiting twice (Mary cleaned him twice) and then broke into tears. She didn’t know what to tell him; he was in pain and tired, and nothing she could said would change that. The older Winchester tried not to dwell in her own feelings much as she started to feel overwhelmed by the situation, because she was feeling guiltier by the minute by her incapacity to keep her brothers happy and in a good shape. “I’ll be right back.”

Mary hurried to get a shopping cart and gently placed Zep inside, tucking him in his blanket. The baby cried and kicked, and she monitored his grace in case he lashed out as she started rocking him again with her grace.

“Come on, Zep, sleep,” she all but begged, exhausted. Taking care of a baby was much harder work than she gave her parents credit for.

The girl then returned to Balthazar, who was still crying and holding his stomach as he obediently waited for her.

“Come on, Baltz, hop on. I’ll carry you, alright?”

He continued to cry but nodded, and the older sister helped him in. Balthazar leaned against the back of the cart and Mary took off the extra blanket from the backpack. She put it around his crying brother, then accommodated Zep in Baltz’s arms.

“There you go,” she offered them an encouraging smile, trying her best to hold back tears herself. This was draining her, emotionally and physically. “We’re good, see? You can even go to sleep now if you want.”

“Can you sing to me? Please?” he asked. His voice broke between sobs and it really made her insides twist with pity. Jeez, she loved the little idiot beyond measure.

“Sure, Baltz.”

Mary moved the cart back and forth as she rocked both their brothers’ graces at the rhythm of her own, and placed her hand on Zep’s round belly. She started to sing…

 _There's a lady who's sure_  
_All that glitters is gold_  
_And she's buying a stairway to heaven..._

She remembered being sick once, when she was little, and Dean rocked her for hours as he sang. He sang, over and over again, his voice low and comforting, and he sang this one song in particular many times.

Her chest was suddenly tight as she thought of her father and she fought through the lump in her throat.

 _No, don’t cry, your brothers need you to be strong_ , she told herself, and smiled at Baltz as she sang and he stopped sobbing.

 _And a new day will dawn_  
_For those who stand long_  
_And the forests will echo with laughter._

She hummed there and then, to cover the instrumental parts, and little by little, the two youngest Winchesters fell asleep as she sang and walked along the dark corridors of the supermarket. Balthazar was exhausted, she wasn’t surprised he went down quickly, but she was eternally grateful that Zeppelin had succumbed too without any grace-related problems involved.

Mary sighed and went to look for another cart. She couldn’t just throw food at her brothers while they slept and she didn’t dare risk waking Zep again. She pulled the new cart and she moved the one in which her brothers slept in with her grace. Wandering through the aisles, she started picking up things they might need; food, loads of baby food, cookies and granola bars. She stopped when she found the section with vegetables and fruits and sighed with delight, then ran to pick up a couple of bananas. She ate three at once, almost choking as she went. Then she grabbed a tomato and bit it with joy, the juice inside it spilling down her chin. It was nice having something with more liquid in her mouth after going days without water. Then she found some bread, opened a can of jam, stuck some bread inside and ate it with her bear hands. When she had finally had enough, she cleaned herself up with grace and put some fruits on the cart to take with them the following day. Clementines were one of Baltz' favourite fruits and he would be very happy to have them for breakfast.

She stopped at the baby section and wondered if she should take some diapers with her, but then decided it was going to be easier to just continue to clean Zep with grace. She nearly panicked as she scanned the aisle, wondering if there was something of vital importance she should need to take care of the baby, but she had no idea, so she continued without taking anything but a new pacifier.

When she reached the kids' section, she looked around with more interest. She’d promised Balthazar some toys, and though he was sleeping and couldn't choose them himself, he’d earned them. Mary picked some small car toys for him, sighing when she found one that look close enough to Baby. She held it in her hand and, once more, tears came to her eyes. She missed the car… She missed the sound of its engine, announcing Dean was back home... Sad feelings came swirling back into her mind and she pushed them away, shielding her mind with her grace.

 _Be less human and more angel_ , the back of her mind told her.

She took a deep breath and threw the toys in the cart.

As Mary walked through the aisles, wondering what she might need, she came across a section with  camping gear in display. She’d camped a couple of times, with Sam and his family. Dean didn’t do camping and it caused him grave anxiety to know her little girl was sleeping in a tent somewhere in the forest, but after Cas promised to secretly watched over them, Dean had agreed to let her go.

The blond girl studied the tent that was set up in front of her. It was huge. It’d be a pain in the ass to take that, so she looked around until she found one that was small but ideal for just three little kids. Then she grabbed a sleeping bag, just one that would fit the three of them together.

Finally, she explored the warehouse in the back, picked a spot that was relatively secluded, and decided to take the carts to that point to sleep for the night. She laid the sleeping bag on the floor and checked her brothers one last time. Balthazar laid against the cart, his mouth hanging open, his arms limp around Zep. They seemed, all in all, fine. They were fine, and they’d continue to be fine, they had to, and she'd make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GIF sources: (tumblr users) mrsfilzgerald ; jensen-jay ; shirtlesssammy ; supernaturalfreewill


	6. Chapter 6

Zep woke up particularly early, and with him so did Mary. She didn’t mind, if anything she was grateful for the early morning alarm clock her brother was. She needed to get another backpack and maps before the mall opened, and then they could sneak out once the doors were opened. Asking Balthazar to fly them out was out of the question for her; the boy’s stomach had suffered enough last night.

As Mary walked along the deserted aisles while she held her brother and a baby bottle with water to him, she reached the kids' section again and stopped as something she’d missed last night caught her attention; a red pull-along wagon in display, on top of many boxes.

 _Perfect_ , she thought. At least she wouldn’t have to carry Zep in her arms all the way to Kansas. Balthazar would probably want to hop in eventually and be carried in the wagon, but oh well, she couldn’t really blame him.

She laid the baby in the wagon and started picking up some other stuff she’d forgotten the night before; she chose a new backpack, grabbed a compass and looked through maps until she found four she thought would be helpful (a map of the country, one of Kansas, one of South Dakota and another one of Nebraska) when she returned to the camping section. Then she went to get some clothes; she picked up a simple jeans and shirt outfit for herself, and a jacket, another thicker, warmer onesie for Zep and clothes for Baltz. She then put a hat over Zep’s little head, who made cute cooing noises. Mary let out a soft laugh; he was really cute, she had to give it to him. She envied how oblivious he was to this whole mess they were in.

Mary returned to Balthazar and struggled to wake him up. He clumsily changed clothes as his sister put things away in the new backpack, dividing the weight of the things between the two she had, and folded the sleeping bag again. She put most things on the wagon, making sure to leave space to lay Zep in, and decided she’d leave the tent, it took up too much space.

 _We’ll make due,_  she thought with a resigned sigh, trying not to worry too much about the possibility of sleeping out in the open.

The Winchesters waited quietly by the supermarket’s shutters. Or at least, they tried. Zep kept making cooing sounds as he called his siblings for attention, holding his chubby little arms up to them. Mary eventually took him in her arms again in an attempt to keep him quiet as workers begun to arrive through the back doors. She considered looking for the exit in the back, but then decided not to; it was better not to risk bumping into someone. Workers kept turning around and glancing all over the place whenever they heard Zep, trying to find the source of the noise, but when they didn’t see anything, thanks to Mary’s wise use of grace to keep them invisible, they moved on. A girl seemed specially spooked and hurried away from them, which Balthazar found hilarious.

Eventually, the shutters went up and the Winchester kids went out.

“Where are we going now, Mary?” Balthazar asked as he ate some cookies with water.

“I’m not sure… I don’t know where to go first. I was thinking we could go home-”

“Really?” the boy’s face lit up with joy. He looked back at Zep, who was laying in the little wagon again, and smiled, then looked up at his older sister. “We’re really going home?”

“I mean Lawrence, Balthazar, not  _home-_ home.”

The tiny version of Castiel tilted his head and squinted his eyes with confusion.

“I mean,” Mary huffed, exasperated. How many more times was she going to have to explain the alternate-universes thing to him? “I mean- the version of home we’ve got in this story. Remember we talked about we come from another story? Our home here could be different.”

“Oh,” he sighed, looking down at his cookies again. “Yes… And will papa and dad be waiting for us there?”

“I don’t know…”

“Why wouldn’t they be home?”

“I don’t know, Balthazar. I don’t know what this universe is like. We thought we were going to find grandpa Bobby and he was a no-show, so I don’t know, okay? Stop asking me things I don’t have an answer to, you’re putting me on edge!”

The girl’s grace swayed unexpectedly, rolling forwards and then back again like a wave, and Balthazar jumped back. Tears quickly formed in his eyes and soon he started to sob silently as he kept walking behind her. Mary gripped the handle tightly and closed her free hand into a fist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, her grace subdued and completely returned to its normally calm state within her.

 _Be more angel, less human,_ she repeated, and did her best to tuck away her soul within her grace, shutting down her emotions as best she could.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, though she was still annoyed. “I know you don’t understand… But you’ve just got to trust me, alright? I’m doing my best here, Baltz. I don’t have answers to all your questions.”

Balthazar didn’t even bother nodding. They kept walking in silence, Balthazar a few feet behind her. Mary could hear him sniffling and sobbing softly, breathing hard through the mess of snot in his nose due to crying. She tried to ignore it, but eventually guilt dawned on her.

“Oh, come on, Baltz, I said I was sorry,” she sighed, turning around to face her brother. She knelt down and cleaned his nose with his shirt, then waved her hand to clean it. “Come on, don’t be mad at me, you’re the only one I can talk to.”

“You’re mean,” he accused her quietly.

"I’m not, don't say that. I’m just…  _Stressed_.”

“What’s ‘stressed’?”

That question only made Mary  _more_  stressed.

“It means… Really worried, and kind of sad, I guess,” she admitted.

“I’m sad too,” he looked up at her through his long, dark eyelashes. A fat tear rolled down his cheek. “I miss papa and daddy, and grandpa, and uncle Sam…”

Mary gently stroked his cheek, wiping away the tear with her thumb.

“I know, Baltz. Me too. We’ve got to try to find them, alright? Just… think about it as an adventure, okay? You and me, and Zep, travelling. We can eat whatever we want, no vegetables,” Mary winked at her brother, trying to bring a smile to his face.

“I can eat all the cookies I want?”

“Yeah… Just… Not all at once, alright?”

Balthazar smiled and there was suddenly a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, one that usually alerted Dean his son was up to something.

“Okay,” he finally stopped crying.

Mary made a mental note to keep track of the number of cookies her brother ate.

She took the compass from her pocket and found the South.

“Come on, this way, Balthazar.”

“Wait, we’re  _walking_  home?”

“I can’t fly yet. And you can’t take us more than a few metres at a time without covering us with vomit.”

Balthazar started huffing and puffing again. “I don’t want to walk that much!”

Mary rolled her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

 _Don’t smite him,_ don’t _smite him,_ she told herself.

“You can hop on the wagon if you get too tired. Now, come on, it’s going to take us a couple of days to get home.”

* * *

 

Dean woke up way passed midday, no regrets though. He didn't bother changing, just put on a robe and wandered into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and groaned when he found nothing useful, although he was already expecting it; they'd been gone a week or more. 

"Cas! Sam!" he called from the kitchen as he went through the cupboards. "You guys want anything? I'm going into town. Gotta fill up the fridge."

"No, thank you," Cas answered from the library. Dean waited for his brother's answer, but none came.

"Sam?"

Nothing.

Dean sighed and made his way into the library; he hated when Sam got so focused in his research that he ignored everything that happened around him. He hated talking to him and standing there like an idiot waiting for Sam to even realise Dean was addressing him, it felt like talking to a wall.

But when Dean go to the library, all he found was Castiel, hair rebelliously sticking out in all directions after he'd spent the entire night impatiently running his fingers through it with frustration, shoulders hunched forward, and with an irritated expression in his face that told Dean he should address the angel gentle. Several books were scattered over the table, opened in random pages, and there was a pile of unread books by the foot of his chair. 

"I take the research isn't going well..."

Castiel looked up, a severely disgruntled look in his face.

"You think, Dean?"

The Winchester raised his hands in a sign of peace.

"You read all night? You could have rested a little, Cas. Even if your body doesn't need it, your mind could use a break."

Cas sighed deeply and looked back down, closing the book he'd been busy with with unnecessary force and setting it aside. "There's no time for breaks. If I want to find a way to solve this in a way we can all agree on, it's going to take a lot of research."

Dean smiled, a wave of appreciation for his friend running through him. Finally, Castiel was listening to him. At long last, they'd stopped working behind each other's back and stuck together, even when they disagreed. The angel was making a huge effort to try to be in Dean's side, find a way to protect the world - _the Winchesters-_ but keep Dean happy at the same time. He played by Dean's rules so they could stick together. In all honesty, Castiel was glad Dean had asked him to stay; he was  _moved_ , even. A part of him still didn't quite felt like he really belonged with the brothers, still felt like an intruder in their home; he felt homeless and lost, but there was something about Dean asking him to stay... It got to the angel's very core.

"We'll figure it out, Cas," Dean squeezed his shoulder and shoved him playfully, trying to get him to calm down. "Hey, is Sam up yet?"

"Yes. He woke up a couple of hours ago and left. Said he was going on a run for food."

Dean frowned.

"A couple of  _hours_  ago?"

That wasn't right. The bunker wasn't that far away from the city...

An uncomfortable feeling started crawling up his spine. He hoped he was wrong, but...

Dean took the phone from his pocket in such a hurry he almost dropped it, gaining a puzzled look from Cas, and then speed dialled Sam's current number. It went straight into voicemail; the phone was off.

"Son of a-"

"What is it?"

He didn't answer, just merely turned around, breathing heavily as anger started pumping blood faster in his veins, and stormed into his younger brother's bedroom. Castiel got up and hurried after Dean, worried about his sudden outburst. The room unoccupied, Dean hurried to the closet; Sam's duffel was missing, as was his jacket and some of his clothes. Meanwhile, Cas picked up a piece of paper that laid in desk.

"Dean," he started softly, finally understanding the situation. Dean turned and grabbed the piece of paper that was being offered to him. The note read five simple words that filled Dean with both rage and distress:  _I'm sorry, I'll be back._

"No! Son of a bitch!" 

Dean let out a loud cry of frustration and punched the mirror by the bed, smashing it into pieces.

Before he even had time to feel pain, Castiel caught his hand in his own and cured the injuries.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas apologised, "it's my fault. He left because of me."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, gritting his teeth, trying hard to calm down as Castiel's hand held his. He should let go, he should be embarrassed by the touch, but he was so distracted by this new ache in his chest that he couldn't help but give in into the touch that brought some kind of comfort.

"It's not your fault," he whispered with sadness. "I just- I'm so goddamn  _tired_  of being disappointed, Cas. I'm so tired of running after one of the two of you. I just want to be with you."

Cas’ heart nearly missed a beat. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to respond to Dean’s words, unsure of how they made him feel, but before he had time to further process the last sentence or form any kind of reply, it dawned on Dean what he'd just said, how it had  _sounded_ , and the fact that they were still holding hands, and he suddenly looked up and then quickly back down, retreating his hand more forcefully than he'd wish he'd had. Being that close to Cas, it always put him on edge. Cas was still so unfamiliar with human feelings and behaviours, Dean wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea…  _Dean_  didn’t want there to be  _any_  ideas, of any sort, about the two of them. It was ludicrous.

Blushing hard, he quickly pushed those stupid, completely uninvited and unfunded ideas aside.

"I mean- you  _and Sam_ \- we're- we're family."

He gritted his teeth again.  _Get a grip, he’s like a brother to you, Jesus!_ Dean scolded himself.

Castiel didn’t know what to say, how to proceed. Dean seemed terribly embarrassed, and the angel didn’t want him to feel like that in his presence. Even after all those years, there was something about Cas that always seem to put Dean off, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He wanted to take the man’s hand again, but thought better of it; Dean had pulled away for a reason. Dean  _always_  pulled away, for whatever reason, their moments of physical affection were merely momentary. If anything, Castiel was thankful they existed at all, no matter how short, and he’d patiently wait and accept any affection the older Winchester chose to give him.

“Look, Cas-” Dean stood up and retreated a couple of steps. “Sam- he must have found something if he left.”

“ _How_?  _When_?” Cas asked, setting aside his thoughts of Dean Winchester, and focusing in the more pressing matters. “I was up all night and I didn’t find anything. He didn’t go through any book before leaving and I didn't see him on his computer either.”

Running a hand down his face, Dean thought hard. He remembered Sam going through his phone a lot last night on the drive home.

“Son of a bitch must have found something last night and kept it to himself,” he said through gritted teeth. “I should have known, he didn’t-”

Dean stopped himself and threw a glance in Cas’ direction, unsure if he should proceed.

“What?”

“He didn’t… he didn’t trust you, Cas.”

“Oh.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably as the angel looked down, his face dropping.

“Cas, he just-”

“Do you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you trust me, Dean?”

The man huffed a quiet laugh.

“Of course I do, Cas.”

Dean offered him a small yet genuine smile, which Cas returned, making Dean think again of things that he’d never admit to, like how much he liked that smile, and again guilt and embarrassment burnt through him.

"I won't disappoint you this time, Dean."

Dean nodded and cleared his throat, then spoke in that tone that told them it was time to get down to business. “Leave the lore for now, Cas,” he ordered. “We’ve got to try and find whatever piece of news or information Sam must have found on the Internet. But first things first; I’m gonna get food.”

With that, Dean left to change in his own room. In the privacy of those four walls, he sat on his bed and let himself sink for just a moment in the mess of growing emotions.

Why,  _why_  did people insist in leaving him? One way or another, sooner or later, people always disappointed him, always left him. Sam should know better- Sam should know him better than  _anyone_. Why couldn’t he understand how much he needed him right now? Why couldn’t he trust Dean? And to leave him alone with Castiel like that… Not that it was a bad thing, it wasn’t like Dean didn’t enjoy his presence, but being cooped up alone with the angel for days…

He enjoyed it  _too_  much.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t late enough to set up camp and call it a night, but Mary’s legs could not take another single step forward. Balthazar wasn’t nearly half as tired as she was, having hopped onto and out of the wagon several times during the day. Mary couldn’t really blame him or be mad about it; with the baby secure in his lap, Balthazar had kept his younger brother relatively content and busy while he played with his car toys, running them over Zep's belly. Mary had to use her grace to pull the wagon, that seemed to feel heavier the longer she had to pull from it, and walk for so many hours without getting too exhausted, and she’d allowed herself two one-hour breaks in the middle, but it simply got to a point in which she could feel the muscles in her legs beating with fatigue.

The blonde laid the sleeping bag in the grass, not too far from the side of the road, and sat there with a deep sight. She watched dark gray clouds approaching from the horizon and instantly regretted leaving the tent at the mall. Zep, always oblivious to his sister’s worries, laid on his belly, (barely) lifting himself up to look up at her and give her a toothless smile. She reached for his cheek and stroke it gently. Dean always said his son was an ever-happy baby, Mary remembered, and her chest constricted as it always did when she thought of her missing family.

Balthazar ran around the open field that stretched out for kilometres on end all around them, picking up flowers from bushes here and there, talking to the bees. ‘Now _he walks’_ , Mary thought with a little bit of resentment.

“Baltz,” Marry called him, “come here.”

The boy complied without asking questions, running to her with flowers in his hands. When he got to his sister, he extended his hand and offered her one. He too seemed in a somewhat good mood, even after their previous argument that the morning.

“Thanks,” she took the flower, feeling a wave of affection for him run through her, making her forget about the reproachful thoughts she’d just have towards him. “Take a seat.”

The boy sat in front of her, keeping Zep in between them, and gave the baby some flowers too. Zep grabbed them with chubby clumsy hands and practically smashed them all, smiling with wonder at them.

“I was thinking we should do your grace exercises,” Mary told Balthazar.

“But papa told me not do them without him.”

“I know, but we don’t know how long it’ll be before we find him, and you should really practise daily. I may need you to fly again, or help me take care of Zeppelin. You need to learn how to harness your grace, separate it from your soul and control your feelings.”

“I don’t want to fly again,” Balthazar moaned.

“I promise I won’t ask you to fly unless it’s really necessary. But still, you’ve got to learn, Baltz. Let’s just start with some stretching exercises, okay?”

Balthazar didn’t seem too convinced but paid attention nonetheless as his sister sat up straight, folding her legs, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and held it in. Then he watched as her wings opened, stretching very slowly as far as they could go. They were enormous and dark, the lower feathers a slightly electric blue, like her father’s and her brothers’. Her injured wing twitched a little at the effort of remaining open and the child winced in pain.

“Do it slowly,” she spoke in a controlled whisper, “feel the movement.”

Zep screeched with amusement and tried to reach the wings with his hand as he supported his weight in the other. He kicked happily, watching the giant wings tower over him. The baby mimicked the movement unconsciously, stretching his wings too as he watched his sister.

Balthazar copied his sister’s position and closed his eyes too.

 _Relax, son_ , Castiel’s voice came back to him as he thought of the countless times he’d practised with his father. His voice was kind, patient. _Forget your physical body, be your grace._

Slowly, his wings spread out. He swung in place as if trying to balance himself, though nothing was really pulling at his body.

“Quite good, Baltz,” Mary complimented him as she observed him. “Can you move them a little? Try to bend them around you, like papa does when he rocks us.”

The boy tried moving his wings forwards. They obeyed, moving forwards to close around the child, and suddenly Balthazar felt with his hands on the ground as if he’d been pushed by some invisible force.

“They’re not _really_ there, Baltz,” Mary explained with a sigh.

“But I can feel them!”

It was a strange feeling, being so aware of his multi-dimensional form and trying to move it without affecting his body. His consciousness registered the movement and tried to link it to his body, making him lose balance.

“I know, I know,” Mary offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “But they’re not really a part of your body. Maybe we should have started with detachment exercises…”

The boy shifted, feeling slightly discouraged by his quick failure. As most Winchesters, he didn’t handle failing very well.

“So, now… Just try to separate your grace and soul,” Mary indicated. “Concentrate in your grace. Move it, expand it, but leave your soul in place.”

“I can’t,” the boy argued before even trying.

“At least try moving your grace, come on. You do it when you’re mad, you have to learn to control it. You could hurt people, Baltz.”

Balthazar looked up to Mary’s wings again. He spotted the rip in her grace that he’d inflicted in her days ago. It was still healing, but not as fast as it should since she'd been using her grace a lot. Grace-related injuries were much harder to heal and took longer to go away too, not to mention they hurt more. Looking up at it, he felt terribly guilty, he hadn’t meant to hurt her like that. He didn’t want to hurt _anyone_. His parents always said he couldn’t go to school yet, couldn’t play with kids in the playground because there was a chance he could accidentally hurt them (he could kill them too, but his parents never told him that, they didn't want to him to feel afraid about what he was). The small nephilim who barely understood what he and his siblings were didn’t like being classified as dangerous, so he was eager to learn how to control his powers.

 _You have to keep trying, Balthazar,_ his parents would tell him. _Don’t be sad, you’ll learn soon._

Oh, how he missed them.

His grace swung without permission, and Mary quickly picked Zep up, grabbing him from under his armpits, and covering him with her wings.

“Balthazar,” she warned him softly, watching the shift of mood in his soul, “control your feelings. Take a deep breath. Let it make you stronger, gain control.”

She could see the oh so familiar ache in his soul, it was one she knew too well; a terrible longing for home, a deep heartbreak and fear of abandonment. Mary let her grace gently roll forwards and give his brother’s a tender nudge in an attempt to help him gain focus. Balthazar felt her grace and softly tried to hold on to it, keeping his grace in place, slightly away from his soul. He gripped it like he’d grip her hand for balance.

“See? Very well, Baltz,” she smiled at him. “Now, move with me.”

Mary guided him as she softly started to move her grace around them, dragging his along, creating playful little waves that danced around their bodies. The waves made Balthazar’s stomach slightly ticklish and he hunched forwards, hugging his ribs, giggling softly. Mary laughed and Zep kicked and clapped as he watched the graces swing around them, shrieking in delight. The baby attempted to stand on his feet and move towards the waves of energy surrounding him, but he was nowhere near walking yet.

“You wanna dance too, Zep?” Mary held him close, nudging the baby’s grace. His grace latched onto hers a little too forcefully, the equivalent of pulling her hair, and Mary pulled away quickly. “Auch! Gently, Zep, _gently_.”

The little Winchesters played a little more with their graces, practised stretching their wings a couple of times, then had a dinner that was based mostly on cookies and water, and not before long they laid together in the sleeping back, Zep tightly tucked in between his two older siblings.

“Mary… When did grandpa create the stars?”

Out there in the middle of nowhere, the children looked up to a sky that seemed completely different from the one at home, where cities lights partially hid its beauty, their grandfather's creation.

“I don’t know… Millions and millions of years ago.”

Balthazar nodded, but he had no idea how much that was.

“And papa? When did he create papa?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Mary shrugged as she looked up too. “But I guess he’s a couple of millions of years old too.”

“So, he had to wait millions of years to meet daddy?”

“Well… Yeah.”

Balthazar felt rather sad at the thought of them being apart for so long, millions of years sounded like a rather long time. Dean got fidgety when Cas was away for only a couple of days, when Heaven required his presence.

“Do you… Do you think we’re gonna have to wait that much to find them?”

“No, silly,” she chuckled, then gave in a little to worry as she thought that _Dean_ wasn’t going to be alive for that long, although Cas might. “We’ll find them soon… I promise.”

The children fell asleep and the dark clouds flew right passed them, carrying the threat of rain away from them without bothering them, but late into the night, something else woke them up; a truckdriver that saw the children sleeping by the side of the road. The man pulled over and called the police, then ventured into the field towards the children. For a moment, his stomach was tied into a knock and he expected the worse; after all, what could children be doing on their own out there in the dark? He prayed and begged to the Lord not to let him find murdered children, that was a sight he’d never be able to take off his mind again… But he was stunned and glad to find them unharmed and simply… sleeping.

He knelt next to them and shrugged Mary’s shoulder to wake her up.

“Kid? Kid, you okay?”

Mary woke with a start and jumped up, accidentally pushing the man backwards several metres with her grace. She gasped and pulled her grace backwards towards her soul, immediately regretting hurting the man.

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

She looked back to check on her brothers, but they didn’t even so much as flinched. She stood up and ran to the man to aid him.

“Sir, are you alright?” she offered him her hand but he stumbled backwards in fear.

“How did you do that!?” he asked in a high-pitched tone as he backed away from her, suddenly terrified of the little girl.

“I didn’t mean to, you scared me!”

“Are you some kind of demon!?”

“ _What_? No, I’m a nephilim!” she responded without thinking, rather offended.

 _Never bother explaining to humans what you are, they never believe you,_ she could vividly remember Castiel telling her several times. And indeed, the man seemed in the edge of a mental breakdown, the explanation doing nothing to calm him down. He probably didn't even know what a nephilim was. Mary sighed; it was too late, she didn’t have the patience for this right now. She extended an arm towards him and when she touched him, she said, “forget you ever saw us. Go on with your trip.”

The man’s eyes went blank for a moment, his panicked expression softened and then he turned around and drove away.

Apparently, she couldn’t keep them invisible while she was asleep, her grace wasn’t tamed enough to be alert while she was unconscious. Mary made a mental note to either find somewhere to sleep so people wouldn’t see them, or be far enough from the road that people wouldn’t be able to see them, then joined her brothers again in the sleeping bag.

* * *

It was a 6 hours drive from Lebanon to Sioux Falls, and Sam decided to just do it in a day. He kept his phone off the entire ride, knowing eventually Dean would do the math, realise he was gone and consequently shower him with phone calls. The oldest Winchester had a talent for getting under his brother’s skin and make him feel guilty enough to end up agreeing with him, so it was simpler to avoid all contact, for now at least.

Sam got a motel room, bought some early dinner, the kind that he could never get when he travelled with Dean (that meant  _real_ food, in Sam’s opinion, the one that had more vegetables than fat), and went back to his room to make some more research. There wasn’t that much information about the earthquake; scientists were baffled and couldn’t really explain what had originated it. He decided to check out the old salvage yard the next day, there was no point going there alone at night. However, he found another piece of news that caught his attention; a strange robbery at the local mall just in the outskirts of town, the one he visited sometimes when he stayed at Bobby’s fpr long periods of time and needed to shop for (again, _real_ ) food. All cameras had stopped working at the same time, guard didn’t see or hear anything, and only a couple of silly things were missing from the mall. It was being labeled as simple mischief, probably by a group of teens who were after free chips, the writer of the article speculated, but what the hell, Sam thought, he might as well take a look into it, the mall was on his way to Bobby’s anyway.

In the morning he called Jody and met with the woman for breakfast.

“How very curious of you to drop by just now,” she commented as she poured sugar on her coffee.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, you boys crossed my mind yesterday. We’ve had a weird couple of things going on these past few days.”

“You mean the earthquake?”

“Yes, but it’s not just that. You heard about the robbery at the mall?”

“Yeah, actually, I did. I was going to check it out today, but if you could spare me the trip and tell me what you know about it, that'd be great.”

“There isn't much to know. Just a couple of things missing; food, a pull-along wagon, some children clothing, some things moved around… No forced doors, no nothing. The guard didn’t hear or see a thing. But, get this; some of the workers from the supermarket reported hearing strange noises that morning, before opening. A girl swears it was a baby, but there was no baby to be seen anywhere.”

“So… You’re thinking a ghost?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Ghosts don’t steal food, though.”

“No, they don’t…” Sam was lost in thought.

“Hey, did you have someone sent to look over the case, by any chance?”

“No, why?”

“Well,” she took a look around, lowering her voice, “the official word out is that cameras stopped working so we couldn’t get any useful footage from them, and while it’s true they stopped working during the night, the reality is that the footage was stolen before we could take a look at it.”

“ _What_?”

“I wanted to give it a look but when I went to get it to the station, it was gone. My guess is someone must have come with a fake ID, like you guys, and took it. When you told me you were here, I thought maybe it was you.”

“It wasn’t me,” Sam assured her.

“Also, we’ve received two very weird phone calls. First, two days ago, a bit passed evening, a man -rather hysterically, I must say- called to report children walking by the side of the road.”

“Okay…”

“Then he said they _disappeared_ , just like that, in the middle of the call. Last night- or more like early this morning, a couple of hours before dawn, a man called to report the same thing; children by the side of the road. When police got there, they found nothing. They tracked the man to a gas station, thinking maybe he picked the children up, and when they asked him about the kids, he said he couldn’t remember making that call and he didn’t know anything about any children.”

Sam sat on the edge of his chair, heart suddenly racing with interest.

“They reported _children_ , you say?” he asked. There was that sixth sense that he had developed as a hunter that told him this information was relevant somehow, he just had to figure out how the pieces of the puzzle fitted together. “Did they describe them? Was it a girl and a boy?”

Jody looked completely taken aback.

“Well, yes. How’d you know that?”

“Cas… Some children prayed to him for help a couple of days ago. We don’t know who or where they are, we’re looking for them. Maybe it could be them. Did they say what the kids looked like?”

“Only the first caller. He was quite spooked by the situation. I called him back and asked him to meet me because I thought maybe this was a case for you guys, with ghosts, you know? He couldn’t take a good look though. He said it was three children; a taller girl carrying a baby, and a boy. All he could remember was that she was blond and look about 10 years old and the kid had dark hair and was younger, probably 4 or 5 years old. He said he was about to pull over, to talk to them and retain them while he waited for a police car to pick them up, but they just disappeared as he was making the call. You should have seen the look on his face, poor guy will never travel at night again.”

Sam took a sip of coffee and nodded as he thought; that was a _hell of a lot_ of weird things happening in such a short period of time in Sioux Falls, and it all started in Bobby’s house. It _couldn’t_ be a goddamn coincidence, this was too much. These children, whoever they were, _whatever_ they were, they knew something or were up to something. It was a long shot, but perhaps they were the children who had prayed to Castiel for help since they fitted the vague description Cas has provided for them, a little girl and an even younger boy, as far as he could tell by their voices. These kids Jody had told Sam about were also a boy and a girl, travelling together apparently without any adult supervision; it made sense, even in this messy, unclear situation.

But why were they alone? How were they just simply disappearing? Why couldn’t the second man remember calling the police? What kind of creatures were these children? Had it been them who broke into the mall? He was sure that they were somehow involved in that incident; people had heard a _baby_ , and _children’s clothing_ was stolen, among other things… It had to be them. But how the hell did they get in? And why would someone rob the footage of the cameras at the mall? Was there anything interesting to see? Were the children in the footage?

Sam ran his fingers through his hair impatiently, dozens of questions popping into his mind as his brain worked the case as quickly as possible.

“Do you think you could send me the locations from where the calls where made?”

“Sure, I’ll email you the coordinates as soon as I get to the station.”

“Thanks, Jody, you’ve been of great help. If you know anything else about these kids, or anything that could be remotely related to them, you call me, all right?”

“I will… Should I be worried? You look worried. It’s generally something really bad when you look worried, Sam. Please tell me you didn’t open any portal to any weird world again, or something of the sort?”

Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or feel offended.

“I don’t know, but whatever’s going on, for once it’s not my fault. Something’s up with these kids.”

“I agree. But… they’re just children, you know? Alone, out there, with a baby…” Jody’s face fell a little, her mom-instincts kicking in. “If you find them and they’re… you know, _special_ ,” she gave him a meaningful look, “don’t hurt them, all right? I’ll take care of them.”

Sam gave her a small smile and nodded. “I’m not _hunting_ them, I promise. I just want to find them and make sure they’re okay.” He stood up, left a couple of dollars on the table and bent over to kiss Jody in the cheek.

"Hey, Sam," she called after him as he started walking towards the exit. "When you sort this out, I want you and your brother down here for dinner, you hear me? It's good to see you."

The young Winchester felt a rush of affection towards Jody. She was such a wonderful person, probably the only real friend left they had...

"We will, Jody, I promise," he said, conveniently leaving out the part where he had ditched Dean for this case. "See you soon, take care."

After breakfast, Sam went back to the motel. He packed his things; if the children were on the move, so was he. They couldn’t have gone that far, could they?

As he drove to Bobby’s old place, Jody sent him the coordinates from where the 911 calls had originated. One wasn’t very far from Bobby’s, and it was in fact on Sam’s way there; the other wasn’t even a day away from town. He checked the first spot on his way to the salvage yard, but there didn’t seem to be anyone wandering around, no clues that he could work with, so the young man kept driving.

It wasn’t just bittersweet to be back at the Singer Salvage Yard; it _hurt_ to be there. Bobby’s house had been the closest thing they’d ever had to a home, the one place they could go whenever they wanted, where they’d always be received with opened arms from a man that had at times been more of a father to them than John, and had loved them at least just as much.

Sam walked through the cars, towards the house, and stopped at the porch. The house looked in terrible conditions and was probably better to stay outside.

He couldn’t help but have a thick lump in his throat the entire time; _damn_ , how he missed Bobby and the old house.

But no signs of anything off were to be found. No weird smells, no sigils painted anywhere, no cracks made from the earthquake on the ground, no nothing. Except…

As he turned around, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye; two empty jars of baby food at the bottom of the stairs leading up the porch. It looked like it’d been left there not too long ago, although bugs had already claimed the rests of food in the edges. And just a couple of feet away, rolled over the grass by soft freeze, two empty packs of cookies.

 _They’ve been here_ , Sam thought. He knew it, in his gut, he was _sure_. These children had been there the night of the earthquake, he could bet his life on it. They _had_ to have something to do with the nephilim. What if the baby they carried _was_ the nephilim, and the angels had felt him or her be born instead of the mother getting pregnant? (Or father angel, as Cas had explained.) But if so, what had happened to the child’s parent? Had they died at birth, maybe? Had an angel got to them so fast? But if that were the case, there should be a body here and there wasn’t. And the baby should also have been murdered but it was alive and kicking apparently…

Where were these kids going? No wonder they were praying for help; two little kids in charge of a baby would surely be desperate por some help. No matter what they were,  caring for a baby was no easy task. His stomach twitched uncomfortably thinking of the kids wandering the roads at night, eating whatever they could get their hands on, praying for someone to help them.

And someone else seemed to be already on their tale too, why else would they steal the footage? Was that someone -or something- friend or foe?

Sam got in his car and drove away; he had to find those children before someone else did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gifs sources: (tumblr users) sam-and-dean-winchesters


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Thank you for the comments, you're all so nice!  
> Feel free to help me check spelling mistakes, or grammar mistakes. Sometimes I make silly typo mistakes, like writing 'what' instead of 'that', and I find them after re-reading a chapter.  
> Who's excited for season 13, huh??  
> Cheers, enjoy!

A couple of hours after the incident with the truck driver, Mary woke up feeling her legs aching from all the walking she’d done the previous days. But keep going they must, so she gently massaged her legs with her hands and grace, trying to relax the muscles before they continued their long walk home. That day the little Winchesters advanced slower than ever. It was either moving at a lazy pace or making loads of stops, and Mary preferred the first option. Every time she stopped, she had loads of trouble getting back up so it was better if she didn't sit down.

Now that they moved at an easier pace, Balthazar joined her sister more often as she walked. They practised a lot with their wings and their graces, but Baltz made little to no progress; he was still too young, too _human_. Which was ironic, because Zep was even younger and his grace rolled all over the place without control, mimicking the movements of his siblings. His grace seemed to be in automatic mode, moving freely and playfully most of the time, an entity with little to no conscious will that just harmlessly danced around his soul, while Balthazar’s seemed strongly attached to his physical body. He could channel his power through it to make him physically stronger or less tired, but he had a lot of trouble moving it or using it independently from his physical form.

Mary guided the children towards a nearby forest, away from the road, just a little bit more to the East, but always travelling South. After all, Lawrence was more to the East than Lebanon. There, she wouldn’t have to use her grace to keep them invisible as they travelled, and people wouldn’t bother them while they slept.

The children set up camp quite early by a stream. The weather was nice enough to allow them to wet their feet in the water, and Mary appreciated the cold stream and its movement as it ran around her tired feet. They played around a little, Baltz gathered flowers again and Mary improvised some crowns with them.

“Mary, look a deer!” Balthazar pointed far into the woods with a wide, excited smile in his face. “Call it to play with us! Please?”

Mary nodded with a smile; she loved animals, all of her grandfather’s creations, from insects to dogs and whales, they were all fascinating. Balthazar wasn’t allowed out much, so he didn’t get to see many, except for birds and some insects when they were out in the garden. He’d asked for a dog several times, but Dean wanted to wait until Zep was grown up too and able to control his powers, so he wouldn’t accidentally pull on the dog’s hair and hurt it badly. God knew his uncle Sam always paid great attention to keep the baby’s hands away from his hair, it hurt like a mother fucker when the baby pulled from it.

The deer slowly walked up to them. There was something about the children that put it at ease too, they didn’t seem like a threat. A strange, soothing energy emanated from them. Balthazar came close to it, stretching a hand to touch the fur. His heart was beating fast with excitement and admiration. When they made contact, the animal flinched slightly but then relaxed as the child pet it carefully.

“Hi,” he whispered.

Mary kept an eye on his brother as she held Zep in her arms. It was a sweet thing to watch, the blue-eyed boy petting the animal with a gentleness that was usually uncharacteristic on small boys like himself, talking to it in whispers. He could be so tender when he wanted to. Balthazar had a kind, playful soul that shone brightly every day, and for that his sister loved him. Had Balthazar been more of a moody or capricious child, this trip would had been a lot harder to make, and he’d probably be more dangerous to humans too. But his parents had raised him good, with love and a strong sense of respect for life.

And now they were gone. Their affection was gone, their lessons and knowledge were gone, the bedtime stories were gone, family dinners were gone… Mary tried hard not to think about them, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. Her soul twisted painfully no matter how hard she tried to shut her feelings down, drown it in her grace. They wouldn’t had sent them away if the situation wasn’t serious. What if they never went back for them? What if they didn’t beat the devil? What if they were already dead?

The blonde grabbed hold of her grace with all her might so it wouldn’t expand and scare the deer away. Balthazar kept talking to it and she was thankful for the distraction as a couple of tears ran down her face. She looked up to the sky and closed her eyes.

 _Papa…_ she thought, praying in despite of herself. It was fruitless and the lack of response hurt, so she had decided not to pray anymore, but she was desperate, she needed the help, the affection of her parents.  _Please… If you can hear me… I miss you._ But no one answered, no one ever did. Why? Did their father not exist in this universe? Could he not hear her?

 _Castiel?,_ she tried instead. She could remember him telling her once that calling him by his name made her prayers louder, easier for him to hear. _I miss you. Why won’t you answer?_

Her soul burnt with anger and confusion; why wouldn’t he answer? When she needed him the most, why didn’t he come for them?

The deer sat with them through the night, cuddling besides Balthazar. The animal kept the child content and calm, while it had the opposite effect on Zep; he wanted to touch the animal too, but Mary wouldn’t let him near it in fear that her baby brother would accidentally hurt the animal. He had the might of an elephant within him, and had loads of trouble controlling it. He’d broken Dean’s ribs once with a simple kick during a late night meltdown, and luckily Castiel had been beside him to cure him immediately.

The next day the children barely travelled at all. Mary wanted to give her legs a chance to rest, though they were running out of food again and would need to get some more soon. She fed her brothers and herself with less food and more grace, to make it last a little longer. She checked the map, trying to guess were they were, and decided to try and find the next town in the map.

The following morning, she forced herself to walk a couple of long hours, almost without rest in the middle. Balthazar joined her more than she’d expected him to. By the time the town was in sight, the sun was setting. She was tired but the prospect of more food kept her from giving up and collapsing on the ground.

It was dark by the time they finally arrived. They walked through the outskirts of town, passing the homey neighbourhoods as they headed downtown in their search for shops, all while they remained invisible. The two older Winchesters stole glances into the houses from time to time, and both their hearts ached at the sight of families sitting down for late dinner or watching tv together. After that, they kept quiet most of the time. Mary thought she should say something, she should try to keep her little brother’s mind busy, but she didn’t have the energy or the mental strength to do it when she felt to sad herself.

Finally, she found a shop she could steal food from. It was a little gas station, nothing fancy, but she thought it was a better option than asking Baltz to sneak them into a supermarket. After all, she’d promised he wouldn’t have to fly again unless it was really necessary. After the look in his face as he’d watched families cuddling together by the couch, she really didn’t want to add physical discomfort to the list of things her little brother was feeling. He was only 5, after all, it broke her heart that he had to feel this kind of pain at such a young age.

Mary guided them to an alley not far from the little store.

“Baltz, why don’t you wait here? Sit down and rest, I’ll be right back with food. Okay? Take care of Zeppelin while I go in.”

The baby laid on the wagon, already tucked in and sleeping peacefully; it was way passed his bedtime.

Balthazar grimaced a little at the thought of being left alone in the dark alley and gave his sister a look that told her he didn’t agree with the plan.

“I’ll be super quick, I swear. I’ll bring you some m&m’s, what do you say?” she offered him and winked an eye at him, trying to lighten the mood.

Baltz sighed and nodded; you’d get him to do anything for candy. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” she kissed the top of his head. “Remain invisible like we practised, okay?”

He nodded again and then she took of running running.

Mary hadn’t been gone for a long time before a man came stumbling into the alley. He was carrying a couple of bags, limping from his left leg. Balthazar held his breath, a little afraid, as the man walked right passed him. He watched his dirty, beaten face as he marched further into the alley; he looked tired and blue, pale and thin. The boy couldn’t help but be curious and feel a little sorry for him. The homeless man sat by a dumpster and took a deep breath as he looked up to the stars. He coughed rather intensely, hugging his ribs while he winced in pain.  

Balthazar hesitated. He was still afraid of him, but the man seemed ill and injured, and the child could help him. He’d always tell Dean he’d help people when he grew up, and although Dean was proud of his son’s kind spirit, he was worried of the heavy weight that came with trying to save everyone; he damn well knew all about that burden. Heaven saw his children as their new, future leaders in the making, three powerful beings that would finally bring peace between humans and angels, and Dean didn’t like the pressure that put on his little kids, no matter how much Balthazar seemed to like the idea. Castiel seemed to be of two minds about it; he wanted his children to be children, but at the same time, he knew they weren’t _just_ children. Balthazar wanted to save everyone, cure everyone and everything, spread the love and happiness within him, so why shouldn’t Cas let him? Maybe his children could finally fix the world God had abandoned. Maybe God had _intended_ for his children to be born and be his legacy.

The boy looked down at Zeppelin; the baby was breathing evenly, he didn’t seem anywhere close to waking up. So Balthazar gathered his courage, made himself visible again and walked up to the man.

“Sir?” he spoke shyly, carefully staying a little further away from an arm's length from the man.

The man jumped, which made Baltz jump back too, and opened his eyes to look at the boy.

“Oh, dear,” the man chuckled nervously, a little shaken, then coughed. “I’m sorry, my boy, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar replied with a little smile of his own.

The man looked at the boy up and down; he was beautiful, with a bit of a baby belly he hadn’t lost yet but it made him look adorable, chubby pale cheeks and electric light blue eyes. He looked at the man with a kind, honest smile that people rarely offered him, his innocent wide eyes lacking the typical judgment he usually received from most people. He liked the boy automatically, something about him made his insides warm.

He looked around and saw the wagon, but no adults.

“Are you alone, kid?”

“No, my sister’s in the store.”

“Okay… What are you doing here, son?”

“I… Are you hurt?” Balthazar asked, leaning closer to the man. “You walk funny.”

The man laughed softly, then coughed again. “It’s an old injury.”

“And your cough?”

The man’s smile gave in a little; he’d been sick awhile now and was worried about it, but there was really nothing he could do about it, he couldn't afford tonsee a doctor.

“It’s just a cold, son,” he lied as best he could.

“Are you… homeless?”

Balthazar knew what homeless people were, he saw them sometimes around town or when he travelled with his family. He didn’t understand, though, _why_ people were homeless, and when he asked, Dean tried to change the subject; he was too young to understand the complexity of economic crisis and things like that.

The man simply nodded. Balthazar’s soul twisted a little with pity and sadness.

“I can help you,” he offered his hand to the man.

“That’s alright, son, you should go back to your sister,” the man smiled at the boy’s gentleness and then took his hand with the intention of shaking it goodbye. The moment their skin touched, something happened to him; a change, he didn’t know _what_ , but he could feel it in his body, a strange warmth, followed by a relaxation in his body, a calmness and stillness he hadn’t felt in years. He felt… brand _new_. He gasped, looking up at the boy. “What- how did you-”

“I fixed your leg,” Baltz commented proudly. “And your cough.”

Indeed, his leg didn’t bother him anymore, and it was a strange feeling after years of living in pain. His lungs didn’t hurt either, his airways seemed unblocked and in perfect state, he didn't have to make an effort to breathe unlike the past few weeks.

“How- thank you,” he let out a hysterical laugh. “How’d you do that? Are you some kind of angel?”

“Half-angel,” Baltz corrected him.

The man let out another hysterical laugh and the little boy giggled along with joy; he was excited to be making a man so happy. Balthazar rarely had contact with humans outside his family, but he liked them and wanted to help them.

“Thank you, child, thank you! You know what this means?” Balthazar shook his head. “I could get my old job back, son!”

The man pulled the child into a tight embrace, tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat. Balthazar let him hug him, and the child even leant into the affection, pulling his arms around the man’s neck.

Balthazar couldn’t wait to tell his parents about this successful, peaceful interaction with another human. He hoped Dean would be proud and would take him to the park to play with other children soon.

“Did God send you?” the man asked as he pulled the boy away.

“No. I’ve never met grandpa.”

The man's eyebrows shot up in awe and he huffed a laugh, as tears of joy ran down his face, when the boy so casually called God his grandpa.

“Balthazar! What are you doing!?”

Baltz startled at his sister's angry tone and he turned his head around to see her running towards him, dropping the backpack by the wagon.

“I met a man and I cured him!” he chanted happily, waving his hands around with pride.

“Oh, Balthazar, no!” Mary ran a hand down her face.

“Is that your sister?” the man asked. He had expected her to be older, at least in her teens. What were two children that young doing alone at night? Well, they weren’t common children apparently, but still...

“Yes.”

“Balthazar, you’re not supposed to cure people! Now I’ve got to erase his memory too! I’m pretty tired, you know?”

Mary walked towards the man, a hand extended in his direction, huffing irritably.

“Oh, no, please, I don’t want to forget him!” the man pleaded as he stood up and backed away from Mary. He looked down at Balthazar rather fondly; he’d met an angel -well, _half_ -angel, but still. He didn’t want to forget the child, he owed him too much.

Mary hesitated. She didn’t want to fight the man. “But you’ve got to swear you won’t tell anybody about us! We’re not supposed to use our powers in front of humans,” she gave Baltz a reproachful look. It’s not that she didn’t want the boy to help strangers, but they were in quite a predicament themselves, and Mary needed to keep her brothers’ and her own presence in the down low. The last thing she needed was to bring attention to themselves and have a hunter -or worse, some kind of evil supernatural creature- looking for them.

“Oh, I promise I won’t, child,” the man offered her a shaky smile.

The girl sighed; well, what else could she do? She was tired, she’d used her grace a lot that day already. She just wanted to eat something, have some water and rest.

“Well…” she hesitated, giving the man a quick look up and down, taking a moment to study his soul; he seemed alright, his soul wasn’t a dark one, it seemed relatively kind, though it was pretty sad too. His appearance was a whole different thing; his clothes were all wrinkled and dirty, and his cheeks were slightly hollow. “Would you like some food?”

Mary went back to the backpack and the wagon, pullig them further into the ally, and sat with her brother and the man to have dinner. The Winchesters let the man take whatever he wanted to eat and made some conversation while they ate. Balthazar seemed in a great mood and Mary watched the man’s soul brighten with fondness as he looked at him. After that, she ordered Baltz to go to sleep or he’d be too tired the next day. The man sat next to the children as they laid their sleeping bag on the floor. Mary carefully picked up Zep and laid him next to her. He barely even noticed the movement.

Balthazar felt asleep quickly, but Mary felt slightly uneasy with the strange man next to them. She kept opening her eyes a little to watch him. He smiled down at her.

“It’s okay, you can rest, I’ll watch over you,” he assured her in a soft whisper. He extended a hand and gently moved Baltz’s hair out of his eyes. “I owe him. And you.”

Mary blushed a little. She didn’t think she deserved his gratitude, she’d been rather rude to the man. She hadn’t meant to, but keeping her brothers safe was her priority, everything else could -and would _have to_ \- wait.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then closed her eyes and allowed her mind to relax.

Early in the morning, Mary went for more food, and after that the little Winchesters said goodbye to the man and went on their way south to go home.

* * *

It’d been only a couple of days since Sam had left, but it felt like more to Dean.

The first night, after hours of reading and going through stupid news channels on the internet, Dean finally called it quits and turned to his anxiety medication of choice; alcohol.

He drank several beers and eventually crashed in the couch, falling asleep right there, with the lights on as Cas kept looking. The angel was starting to have a headache himself from staring at the computer for so many hours on end. He made himself some tea, just because he liked to feel the warmth of the hot porcelain against his skin.

When Castiel walked back into the library, his eyes couldn’t help but linger in Dean. The man was frowning in his sleep, his hands clenched into fists; he was having a nightmare, probably. It wouldn’t be unusual. And it wasn’t unusual either for Castiel to ease his night terrors, even if Dean didn’t know he was providing him with that service. He had so many, Castiel wondered how the hell he’d managed to sleep through the night during the years the angel hadn't been with him.

Cas walked up to Dean and pressed two fingers to his forehead. Dean immediately relaxed as Castiel dissolved his nightmares into the familiar fishing spot he knew Dean liked. Castiel smiled as the Winchester’s lips curled into a peaceful smile, and his hand trailed down to rest in the man’s cheek for a moment. It was moments like this that made him grateful for not needing to sleep, he could stay awake when Dean wasn’t and take a proper look at him. Even after all those years together, Dean had changed little to nothing. He was as beautiful as the day the angel saved him from Hell.

But Castiel never allowed himself to linger in those moments for too long, so his hand left Dean's skin alone again.

He grabbed the blanket in his room, went back to the library and laid it over Dean. Then, he went back to his tea and his computer, and with a deep sigh, the angel continued to look without any success for news related to the nephilim or the children.

The following day, Dean was in a terrible mood. Castiel practically forced him to go out for lunch and Dean tool the opportunity to start drinking early. That night, even Castiel had to rest, he couldn’t sit in front of the bright screen any longer. The two of them sat together in the couch as they drank some of the old Scotch. Dean felt terribly conscious of their proximity and stared straight ahead. He’d been stealing glances at the busy angel all day, encouraged by the alcohol that run through his veins. They made small conversation and Cas looked at him from the corner of his eye; Dean seemed distressed, the alcohol didn’t seem to be helping relax at all. Soon Dean left to bed, not baring the uncomfortable feelings that were building up in his chest as his mind wandered and imagined what he’d be capable of if he kept drinking and lost control. God knows he’d lost control many times before in his life and woke up not knowing what he’d done the night before. He couldn’t afford to be like that around Cas. And it embarrassed him and made him feel a profound shame that he was afraid of the possibilities; that there may even _be_ a possibility in which he did things with Cas that he’d done in other crazy, drunken nights.

Eventually, Dean had to get out of the bunker. Being trapped there all day next to Cas was getting to him. He hadn’t expected Castiel to say he wanted to come with when Dean announced he was going to a bar, and he really didn’t know how to say he wanted some time alone without hurting the angel’s feelings, so he let him tag alone, but in all honesty, the he'd been hoping to land a hookup that night. He needed to take control of his thoughts, play a game he knew he was good at in familiar territory, and blow off some steam.

As he relaxed and drank, his behavior around Castiel became more normal, which the angel was thankful for, but Dean still had that shadow of sadness in his eyes. It was present almost continuously, Cas thought. It never really went away, no matter how hard Dean pretended or tried to convince himself that he wasn’t hurting inside. Was there ever a time he _wasn’t_ hurting? Castiel tried to get him to talk about it, but whenever he asked the man how he was doing, Dean never gave a sincere answer. He'd always say something vague, usually accompanied by a sarcastic joke, then moved on to talk about something else.

Castiel excused himself when Dean got into conversation with a random woman. He knew very well that look on Dean’s face, and though he had long accepted that Dean was never going to look at _him_ that way and he was used to watching the man in his many conquests with woman, just now he wasn’t in the mood to watch the show. Dean gave him the keys to the car so he could drive back to the bunker, said he’d find a lift later, but when Castiel left the bar, he walked around the streets for a while, shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets. He wanted not to think, not to feel for a change, not to be so worried, so envious, but his time on Earth had made a mess of emotions out of the angel. Feelings could be so overwhelming sometimes, he thought. Millions of years he’d existed without them, and despite experiencing them for a couple of years now, he still needed time to adjust to them.

Her soft voice came to him in such a low whisper that he thought he’d imagined it for a moment.

_Castiel?... I miss you. Why won’t you answer?_

He stopped and turned around out of reflex.

“I want to!” he said, to no one in particular.

He closed his eyes and made a great deal of effort, but again, he couldn’t locate the voice that was calling him, or recognise it. Who missed him? Who called him?

The longing in her voice tore him apart. Who was this child? Why did she miss him? Why did she sound like he was betraying her somehow? He wanted to answer her prayers so badly, but she wouldn’t make herself visible to him, she wouldn’t tell him where she was or who she was. He felt a strange connection with the voice, he felt like he should know her, he should miss her too, her prayers carried so much emotion it was contagious. But he had no idea who she was.

At least she was still alive, he thought. Dean and Cas had been terribly worried that the children had stopped praying. Now Castiel just deduced that they’d given up on him. He was letting them down.

Castiel went back to the car and drove home quickly. He turned the computer back on and continued reading; he’d find those children, even if it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: (tumblr users) thejabberwock - justjensenanddean


	9. Chapter 9

It’d been three days, going on four, since Castiel had heard the girl’s voice. She hadn’t called again, neither did the boy. But Castiel had faith that they were safe. They had to be. Cas searched the lore for a way to find them, a spell that might help, but the children seemed well guarded. He checked the list of missing children, but none seemed to be connected to the ones that prayed to him. He was looking everywhere, for any clue or lead at all or anything that might help their case. It was early in the morning when he found news that finally caught his attention. He was checking the news that ran through a software Charlie had programmed for them before she was killed. It filtered news according to certain standards, when certain words were mentioned; miracle and words that derived from it where one of the standards. In a small city right in the edge of South Dakota and Nebraska, a man, Carl Sanderson, had suddenly recovered from a severe leg injury he’d sustained a couple of years ago. The doctors were baffled and they were calling it a miracle. The man simply stated he had woken up feeling brand new and had no idea how he had healed his leg. The town’s mayor had decided to give the old man his job back at the local water plant, taking the opportunity to make himself look good for the local news paper. It was a win-win situation.

Cas knew better. The type of injury they described could not just heal from one day to the other. Something was wrong there. It could be the action of an angel. But why? Angels didn’t engage with humans anymore, let alone healed them for no reason. Or perhaps the man had made a deal with a demon. But wouldn’t he have asked for something better? To sell your soul to simply gain your old job back… It didn’t seem quite worth it. Maybe the man had used magic, but that always came with a price. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, so he woke Dean up, who did _not_ at all enjoyed opening his eyes before 9 am.

“I think I found something,” Castiel told him.

“And it couldn’t wait two hours?” Dean asked, his eyes barely opened as he checked the time on his phone.

“Dean, it’s been days and we’ve found _nothing_. Sam’s not back, we’ve no leads of him either. If this isn’t helpful, we’ll just come back and you can keep sleeping.”

“Wow, wow, we’re in a mood today, huh?”

Cas rolled his eyes.

Dean pushed the covers away and started changing. He then turned around to see Castiel still staring at him just as he was about to pull his t-shirt off. With Cas standing there, watching him, trench-coat on and all, it made him feel self-conscious; all Dean had on was his boxers and a t-shirt.

“Err- Cas, would you mind, you know-” he signalled the angel to turn around with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, sorry,” Cas blushed and turned his head away, leaning into the doorframe.

“Are you alright?”

Cas sighed. “I’m peachy,” the angel mumbled.

“Hey, that’s _my_ line,” Dean huffed a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “What’s with you today?”

“Where should I start, Dean? Your brother left because of me. A potentially deadly being is going to be born who knows where or when. And I’ve got children I can’t find praying to me in tears. Take your pick.”

Dean was slightly bothered by his tone, but he let it slip since he’d been a bit rude lately too. He had to stop that. It wasn’t Cas’ fault that he felt whatever it was he was feeling when they were alone with no distractions. The last thing he needed was to drive the angel away; after all, his friend was doing all sorts of efforts to be in Dean’s side this time. He was being a good friend, the best Dean had ever had. And both of them were worried sick, specially about the children. The nephilim, it could wait a couple of months, though they weren’t sure how long a nephilim pregnancy was. Sam… Sam would come back eventually, but the children… They could starve, dehydrate, get hurt, run into the wrong people… All sorts of things could go wrong.

“She called me again,” Cas said in a softer, pensive tone.

“What?” Dean turned around as he jumped into his jeans. “When?”

“The night we went to the bar,” he replied.

“What the hell, Cas? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were _busy_ ,” Cas said with an edge of accusation, turning around and looking at Dean through narrowed eyes. “And then I came back to do more research, all night, like I’ve had for days. _I’m sorry_ if I forgot to tell you, Dean.”

“Okay, Cas, I get it, _sorry_ , jeez,” Dean shook his head, unable to understand where this anger was coming from, raising his hands in a sign of peace. “Will you just please tell me now?”

Cas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She was crying. Again. She… she said she missed me,” the angel looked up and his expression was one of terrible guilt. “And she asked me why I wasn’t answering. She was so angry, so disappointed. But at the same time, she… _loves_ me. I can _feel_ it. And it’s crazy, but I feel like I do too. It’s intoxicating, the amount of love that flows through her prayers. I – we need to find her, Dean.”

Dean watched his face come undone like it had very few times before in their time together. Castiel was aching. How the hell did this child manage to make him feel this way, only through a couple of words in a prayer? It couldn’t be easy, he was sure, to have suffering children praying to you, but Cas had never felt this way before about anyone praying to him, it had never affected him this much. Who the hell _was_ this kid? How could Cas not know her and be so loved by her at the same time?

“We’ll find her,” he assured his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I promise, Cas. Let me just get my bag and we’ll get going.”

They bought coffee and pretzels in the way, and Baby drove them away North so fast it was still morning by the time they reached their destiny. They didn’t know how to contact Carl, so they suited up and headed to the local newspaper’s office to make some inquiries.

“And who are you?” Sarah, the woman that had written the article about Carl, asked them, a little confused.

“We’re from Harvard University. We’d like to talk to Carl, run some tests, see if we can figure out how he healed. He could help a lot of people,” Dean lied like a pro.

“Do you know where he’s staying, or how to reach him?” Castiel asked.

“He doesn’t have a phone yet, but the mayor set him up temporarily in a house in the developments. Real generous,” she said with a sarcastic tone, “ _now_ he thinks of the poor, right before elections,” Sarah rolls her eyes.

“Do you have the address?”

“Sure, let me check…”

Sarah opened her notebook, took a pen and copied Carl’s address for them, then ripped the page and handed it to Castiel.

“Thanks.”

Dean and Castiel drove straight towards the man’s house.

They parked the Impala outside and casually walked up to the door. They hadn’t expected to see the door left ajar, obvious signs of forced entry marked around the lock. They looked at each other for just a moment while Dean drew his gun from the back of his slacks and Cas let his angel blade fall into his hand. Quietly and with caution, they entered the house. It was small and it smelled bad, and there was barely any furniture at all. The living room was deserted, and so seemed to be the kitchen, but noises could be heard coming from upstairs. Dean signalled Castiel to follow him up the stairs with a short, quick movement of his head. As they went up, they could hear a man talking in a threatening low voice and another one whimpering.

In unison, they barged into the room at the end of the hallway. A young man was standing by the bed, easily holding Carl by the neck, the poor man’s feet hanging inches from the floor, his face red as he choked.

“Brother, stop!” Castiel yelled as he charged towards the other angel.

The angel dropped the man as Cas tackled him. Carl fell to the floor and Dean pulled him up and away from the fight by the arm. He was bruised and looked terrified. Cas pinned his brother to the ground and Dean kicked his angel blade away from his hand.

“Castiel!” the angel yelled in anger. “Get off of me!”

“Amar, what are you doing torturing this man!?”

Cas allowed him to stand up, but stood protectively between the other angel and the humans, his own angel blade still raised and threatening to act if he was provoked. He didn’t want to hurt Amar, Cas knew him, but he would if he had to.

“I’m doing what must be done! I’m hunting the nephilim, and so should _you_!” Amar threw back at him, looking at Dean and then back at Castiel. “Come back to Heaven, help us fight this. What are you doing still wasting your time with the Winchesters? They’re a disgrace!”

“Hey, _I’m_ not the one who wants to kill babies, pal!” Dean defended himself.

“You fool! You’ve no idea the kind of power nephilim possess! They could end us _all_.”

"It's a goddamn child. You're some heartless sons of bitches, you know that?"

“They’re g-good kids!” Carl stammered, voice shaking in fear but determined nonetheless.

“Amar, we could discuss this, brother,” Castiel said, lowering his blade. “We can find another way to deal with this.”

Amar shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Castiel with pity and disappointment.

“Brother, I urge you, come back with us,” he pleaded. “Earth has changed you. You know this _must_ be done.”

Amar took a step forward and Castiel raised his blade again in response.

“I can’t let you do that,” Cas warned him. "And I won't let you hurt this man either."

The other angel shook his head. “You know more will come if you kill me. I will find those children and I will do what you don’t have the guts to do, Castiel.”

Amar walked around them, towards the door, never breaking eye-contact with his brother. Cas followed his every movement, blade in hand, but he never charged towards him. Dean looked back and forth between them as Amar got closer to the exit.

“Cas!” Dean snapped urgently. Amar was getting away. “Cas, come on!” Dean urged him, looking at the angel as he waited for a sign that told him they were going to fight the guy.

But Castiel couldn’t do it. He’d killed so many of his kind already… He was tired, deep down, of all the death that got in his path. He was tired of being the one that _caused_ so much death. It was true, he had changed, and he hoped that it was for the better, but he couldn’t deny he’d made some bad choices along the way, things he deeply regretted… And he didn’t want Amar’s blood in his hands too, another death that would haunt him when he was alone at night with his thoughts and regrets.

So he let him go.

“Cas, what the hell!”

Castiel put his blade away and turned around slowly. Dean was angry, fuming.

“How could you let him just go!”

“Did it ever occur to you that they are my family too, Dean?” Castiel spoke slowly, avoiding the man’s eyes. There wasn’t time for that, and frankly, he didn’t want to talk about it either. How could he explain to Dean how it felt to butcher your own family, usually for the sake of protecting two humans? Because it was all about the Winchesters, in the end. He would have never rebelled if it weren’t for them… If it weren’t for _Dean_.

Dean’s jaw clenched and he took a deep breath, turning to Carl. _Not the time and place, not the time and place,_ he told himself. They’d have that argument later.

“Are you okay?” he asked Carl. It was a rather stupid question, he knew it, and in response, Carl just looked up at him with a completely stunned face. “Cas, do you think you could fix him up?” Dean pointed at the bruises around Carl’s neck and in his face.

The angel nodded and touched Carl’s forehead with two fingers. The marks and the pain went away in a way that was now familiar to Carl.

“Thank you,” the man whispered, offering Cas a small smile as he sat in the edge of the bed.

“Why did he attack you? What do you know?” Dean asked him.

“He wanted to know who cured me, wanted me to tell him about- about-”

Carl hesitated, looking at Dean up and down as he studied the stranger. Should he trust them? He didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt the kids, but Carl had promised Mary he wouldn’t say a thing about them, and he’d endured Amar already… Though he was grateful these two had showed up, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would had been able to last the torture.

“About what? About some children?” Dean offered. What the hell was Amar talking about, implying there were _more_ than one nephilim?

The man pressed his lips into a thin line as he considered his options.

“Please,” Dean pleaded with him, “we’re not going to hurt them, I swear.”

“Is it a boy and girl you met?” Cas asked impatiently.

“You know them?” Carl looked up with hope. If they knew the kids, maybe it was okay to talk about them…

“Not really, but they’ve been praying to me. I want to help them, I need to find them. Please.”

The look in Cas’ face convinced Carl; he seemed honest and really worried, and Carl wanted someone competent and kind to help the kids.

“I offered them to stay with me,” Carl whispered. He felt terribly guilty for letting the kids just go, all alone. “But she said no. She said they had to go home, and she wouldn't let me go with them either.”

“Home? Where’s home?”

“I don’t know, she wouldn’t say. I don’t know much… Mary, the eldest, she didn’t want to give me much information. She was even going to erase my memories,” he huffed a laugh, still having trouble believing the whole thing, “right after the little one cured me.”

“The _boy_ cured you?” Cas repeated incredulously.

“Told you it was probably an angel praying to you,” Dean muttered, elbowing his friend.

“Half-angel,” Carl corrected him much like Baltz had done.

“What?” Dean’s smug expression dropped.

“Half-angel,” Carl repeated. “He said he was half-angel.”

The content of the information was like a slap to their faces. Dean and Cas slowly turned to look at each other.

 

 _Oh boy. Oooooh boy,_ was all Dean could think.

That changed _everything_.

“N-no,” Cas stammer dumbly, talking mostly to himself. “That’s impossible. The nephilim’s supposed to be a baby.”

“Oh, there was a baby with them,” Carl told him. “Beautiful, little thing he was.”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair as he shifted with nerves. “So it was _three_ children? A girl, a boy and a baby?”

“A baby boy, yes.”

Well, no shit they were praying for help, Dean thought; two little kids, in charge of a baby… No matter _what_ they were, they were in need of help. And angels were _hunting_ them.

“Good kids they were, they didn't seem dangerous at all,” Carl assured them in a haste, doing his best to put these strangers in his side. “Please don’t let those other people hurt them.”

“Angels,” Dean corrected him, his animosity towards Castiel's kin evident in his tone.

“Aren’t angels supposed to be good?” Carl asked, confused.

Dean snorted. “Big misconception, _trust me_ ,” he said, gaining an annoyed look from Castiel, and his smile dropped quickly. “But my friend here is one of the good ones,” Dean offered Cas an apologetic look.

“Please, tell us all you know about them,” Cas continued, ignoring Dean for once. “What did they look like? Which way did they go?”

“I really don’t know much… I met them two nights ago. The little boy, he cured me. He couldn’t have been more than 7, probably younger, I'm not very good telling people's age. He had black hair, shinny blue eyes… Kind of like you, really,” Carl said as he observed Cas. “Balthazar was his name.”

“ _Balthazar?_ ”

Of all possible names, the boy's was _Balthazar_? Could his old friend have had children before dying? Scratch that- before getting stabbed by Castiel himself. The was probably one of Cas’ biggest regrets ever…

Balthazar had always had a great disregard for angel laws. If anything, he’d _enjoyed_ breaking them. But if these were his children, how had he managed to keep them hidden for so long? And who was the father of the baby? Dead angels have no newborns. Could it have been an angel that named his child after Balthazar? Castiel couldn’t remember his old friend having any other close angel friends that would do such a thing in his memory, if he was honest. Balthazar had been a bit of an outcast, like Cas. Although, for all they knew, the baby could be human.

“And the girl?” Dean asked, breaking Castiel’s train of thought.

“’Bout 10, I guess. She had blond hair, blue eyes too.”

“You said her name was Mary?”

 _Mary and Balthazar_ , Dean thought. Those names sounded too familiar to him. Who the hell were these kids?

“Yes. I didn’t catch the baby’s name. They called him Zep. I don’t know where they were going, but the girl- she had a compass. She looked for South. I think they’re headed that way.”

“Okay… Thank you, _so much_ ,” Castiel took his hand and shook it. “Dean, come on, we have to go.”

Castiel turned around and ran down the stairs. Dean was a little surprised by the hurry, but he followed him, only to stop a moment by the door. He turned around, back at Carl, and asked him, “why didn’t she erase your memory?”

“I asked her not to.”

“Why? You would have been safer that way.”

“I witnessed a miracle, boy,” Carl replied with a smile. “And it wasn’t that he cured me. It was simply _him_ , he was… _pure kindness_ ,” Carl’s smile widened with fondness. “He was all that’s good. And I’d never seen that before, and I don’t ever want to forget that exists.”

Dean stood stunned by the man’s honest words. He looked so happy as he talked about Balthazar, so full of hope and affection, for a child he’d only met once. He looked smitten, just like Cas was with Mary. Was it a power they possessed, to make people feel an attachment to them?... Or could they really simply be that good?

“Go,” Carl went on. “Find those kids. They need you.”

The elder Winchester nodded, then walked out of the house to find Cas already sitting in the Impala.

“You okay?” Dead eyed him for a moment as he got in the car. He didn’t start the engine, they needed to talk.

Cas gave him one of those that’s-a-stupid-question looks.

“There are at least two nephilim, Dean. _Two grown nephilim._ ”

“I know…” Dean sighed. “And I bet the baby’s one too.”

“Heaven will never stop looking for them,” Cas warned him. It was a look that Dean didn’t like, one that said there was little they could do about this…

“Cas- You’re not thinking about-”

“No,” Cas interrupted him, “but I don’t know what we’re going to do. These kids are a time bomb.”

“Well, apparently they’re not _that_ dangerous, if they’ve been around these whole time and nothing's happened! And- and they sound like good kids. They prayed to you, it has to be the same kids. You know they’re good, you felt it, Cas.”

“Sometimes good people do bad things too, Dean.”

Dean didn’t know what to reply to that. It was impossible not to take that personally. He averted his eyes. He didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt at the comment.

“Yeah, like you letting Amar go,” he replied with resentment.

Cas sighed. There they were, arguing again. Sam wasn’t there to force peace between them and neither of them knew how to do it on their own. Both of them were proud and had terrible skills when it came to discussing their feelings.

“I don’t want to kill my kind anymore, if I can avoid it,” he admitted in a melancholic tone.

“You might have to, Cas,” Dean replied and he turned the engine on, “if you’re gonna help me protect these kids… Are you gonna help me, no matter what it takes?”

Their eyes met. Dean was silently pleading him to stay. He wasn’t one to beg, he didn’t like to ask and he wasn't good at it either, but he needed the reassurance.

Castiel thought of Mary, waiting for him, being hunted by his own brethren. He thought of Dean too as he looked into those deep, green eyes. He always came first. Castiel always put everything aside for him, it was almost an instinct he’d developed. If whatever he had to do went against his beliefs, then he changed them to match Dean’s. If his brothers disagreed, he left them for his human family. He couldn’t help himself, love always tipped the scale in Dean’s favor. 

“Yes. I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: (tumblr users) mxddiepie ; lostboycas ; supernaturalbaesduh ; frozen-delight ; thewinchesterdaily ; mishas-assbutts


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, and just for reading in general!  
> This week I've two mid-terms, Wednesday and Friday, so I probably won't be updating again until Friday night or next weekend really. Sorry about that. For once in my life, I should actually make studying a priority lol.  
> Hope you enjoy this one, cheers.

Dean waited with his family in the living room. He paced around the room anxiously, hands on his waist, biting his lower lip, while his younger brother sat in the couch with a little 4 years old Mary in her lap, and Jody by their side. Bobby sat in his chair behind the desk, reading peacefully as they waited.

In their bedroom upstairs, Dean’s and Cas’ baby was about to be born. The human father couldn’t be present; the light of his child’s grace would burn his eyes. But Castiel wasn’t alone; his brethren had come to offer their support. Hannah and Samandriel were upstairs supervising the birth of the second nephilim, one of their future leaders. Even Heaven was excited.

“Dean..."

"What?"

"Will you please sit down? You’re making me dizzy,” Jody huffed a laugh as she watched the man pacing around. Dean was so nervous, yet so excited. It was fun to watch him like that, really, but it was starting to make her slightly anxious too.

Dean sat in the arm of the couch and only seconds afterwards, stood up again. Jody rolled her eyes and laughed.

Suddenly, Mary gasped and a hand flied to her chest. Dean turned around to see his little girl with a surprised look on her face, but smiling.

“I can feel him,” she said.

“Him?”

The corner of Dean’s lips curved up. Upstairs, they heard the distinct cry of a baby.

The elder Winchester looked up, then down at Mary again, extending his hand to her as he grinned widely. She jumped from Sam’s lap and took her father’s hand, and together they ran upstairs, closely followed by the rest of the family.

Hannah opened the door for them, and greeted Dean with a kind smile. He nodded to her, silently thanking for her help, despite the fact that Dean was still not comfortable with all of Heaven’s involvement in his children’s lives; they expected too much of them, but they were great allies.

Inside the room, Cas waited for them in the bed, laying with his back against the wall. He looked perfectly normal, only slightly agitated. In his arms was a little baby boy, covered in a small blanket.

Dean and Cas looked up at each other for a moment, smiling at each other. Mary urged Dean on, pulling from his hand, and climbed into bed next to her father.

“Say hi to your new brother, Mary,” Cas said softly.

Dean climbed into the bed too, in the other side, and put an arm around Cas’ shoulders.

“My baby boy,” he whispered proudly, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. He reached out and gently stroke the baby’s little head with a shaky hand. He felt Bobby place a hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, boys,” Bobby said, grinning widely as everyone looked down at the child. Dean simply patted his hand once in response, unable to speak for a moment.

“I can feel him like I feel you, papa,” Mary whispered, looking up at Cas, placing a hand in her chest.

“We’re connected, made of the same grace,” Cas explained, placing his hand over hers, stroking it tenderly with his thumb. “We’re together, always.”

The newborn kicked a little, his hands in little fists, and opened his eyes as he tried to focus them on something. The eyes were a shiny blue.

“Looks like a tiny version of you, Cas,” Sam joked as he leant over the bed to take a look at his nephew.

“Yes…” Cas sighed and then looked up at Dean. “Hopefully the next one will have your eyes, Dean.”

Dean snorted, blushing hard. “ _The next one_? You’ve _just_ gave birth to this one, Cas. Hold your horses.”

“There’s time,” Cas shrugged casually, and Dean couldn’t help but leaning over to kiss him, running his fingers through the angel’s hair as happiness burst through his chest.

Sam smiled as he watched his brother bursting with joy, he was glad to finally see Dean get what he deserved, what he’d always wanted; a family, not broken but together and safe and happy, growing as much as it possibly could. Sam had no doubt about it, a third child would come one day. After all those years of suffering, Dean had find the one person- _angel_ , really, that could make him happy. He was glad Dean had opened his heart to Cas. It hadn’t always been easy, and it took a long time for Dean to be able to show Cas physical affection in front of other people, but the man had finally reached a state in which he didn’t give a single fuck anymore what people thought about them, he was too busy being happy to care.

“What’s his name?” Hannah asked shily from the door. Now the baby had been born and seemed to be doing completely perfectly, she felt as a bit of an intruder, standing there watching the family receive their new member.

Dean and Cas looked at each other once more; Dean nodded in silent agreement and encouragement. They’d agreed to let Cas pick the name months ago, since Mary’s had been chosen by Dean, and when the angel revealed the name he’d chosen, Dean had understood his motives… Balthazar. They owed Balthazar so much. He’d corrected Castiel’s path and sacrificed himself for his friend, he’d allowed the other angel to return to Dean.

“Balthazar,” Castiel told them as he lowered himself to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Balthazar,” Mary repeated and carefully touched his hair with one finger.

Mary remembered the night Zep was born. The mood had been completely different. Now, she understood _why_ ; her parents must have known even then that evil forces were rising against them. Dean had nearly cried as he hold his second baby boy, but there was something about the look in his face that seemed sad, _guilty_ even.

“Did you want a girl too, daddy?” Mary had asked as she observed her father’s strange reaction. She would have expected him to look happier.

Dean looked up at her, slightly confused at the question, then pulled himself together and smiled at his daughter. “Yeah, a little bit,” he lied.

“Well, I wanted a boy!” Balthazar smiled broadly, oblivious to anything else, as he tried to climb into Dean’s lap to take a closer look at his brother.

Mary gently touched her dad’s arm. “It’s okay, daddy. I love him anyway.”

Dean bit the insides of his cheeks so hard, they almost bled. Jeez, was Mary pure and good-hearted. His daughter, _all_ of their children, were his entire world. And his newborn son, not only an hour old, was already in danger, just for the sake of being his boy. How selfish he’d been, he should have never- but he couldn’t even imagine life without having had them.

“Don’t forget to give Zep the sigils,” Bobby reminded Cas, in a low, grim voice.

“Oh, right.”

Cas held the baby with one arm and gently touched his belly with the other. The baby flinched and started to cry a moment later, as Cas burned the sigils that hid him from all angels in his little ribs. It didn’t hurt much, really, but Dean knew it felt weird.

“Sorry, son, it’s for your own good,” Cas whispered and kissed his forehead, wrapping his wings around the baby and rocking him into contentment again.

That should have been Mary’s red warning sign; Cas had burned the sigils into her ribs and Baltz’ only weeks after they’d announced Zep had been created, and now they were burning them into Zep too. Never before had they needed to hide from other angels. There wasn’t any ongoing quarrel with them, that she knew of.

“But what if I want to call you?” Mary had backed away from Cas as her father approached her. She didn’t want the sigils on her, didn’t want to severe the bond they shared. She liked knowing her dad could always find her when she called, and enjoyed feeling him even from great distances when Cas was away in angel business, as Dean called it. “I don’t want to stop feeling you, dad,” Mary touched her chest again. That’s where she always felt her father’s grace.

“You won’t, Mary. We’re made of the same grace, remember? Your brother, you and I, we’ll always find each other.”

It was true, she could still feel Balthazar and Castiel, and when Zeppelin was born, she’d feel him too. But all the other angels had suddenly disappeared. She didn’t know how to feel about it. Mary liked them, they were kind to her, highly respectful of her family. Mary asked why she needed the sigils, but no one gave her a straightforward answer.

She should have known better, she thought as she looked down at her two little brothers sleeping. She should have put two and two together, and realise the only angel that wasn’t on their side, was Lucifer.

It was pouring outside, and the children had taken refuge in a barn. Balthazar was excited to see cows and the children cuddled between the cattle for the night. The boys were fast asleep, but Mary was so worried, she couldn’t sleep despite being exhausted. Her legs shook with fatigue, her back resting against the cow she was petting. She hugged the animal and sighed deeply. It’d been 9 days, going on 10 the next one, since they’d arrived to this universe. How long were her parents going to take to come and get them? She still couldn’t feel her father’s grace connect with hers, he hadn’t come for them yet. The girl checked several times a day, but the connection between them was still broken, awfully silent.

She woke up rather late the following day. The farmer had let the cattle out, and had missed the sleeping children by chance. Balthazar had been woken up by Zeppelin. He’d decided to let Mary rest a little longer, then took the baby with him in the wagon, and ran out with the cows to play outside.

The farmer spotted him from the window and ran outside to get the children away from the cows, and Balthazar made himself and his little brother invisible, and ran to wake up Mary. He was rather rattled, but giggling nonetheless.

It was still a bit of a long way to Lawrence and she was terribly tired, moving slower everyday. It was raining heavily for the second day on a row, and she used her grace to stop the rain from falling in their heads as she struggled with the mud. Her grace was strong and provided her with energy, but she hadn’t ever used it that much. Mary was used to living quite the normal human life, going to school, making homework, going on playdates, having family dinners; just like Dean wanted her to. A normal, happy childhood. Well, not anymore, really. He’d tried, she had to give it to him.

The next day, late at night, she’d had enough. She couldn’t stop the rain anymore and it started raining in them. The girl put her jacket over Balthazar, who was sitting in the wagon by then, Zep secured in his lap. She knew she needed a proper place to rest for the night, away from the rain. Mary was also sure that her knees were going to give in at any moment, grace or no grace. She made for a church in the outskirts of the following town they found. 

“Balthazar,” she panted, leaning against the wall, a little wet. “Please, take us in.”

“Inside the church?”

Mary nodded. Balthazar pouted; he knew what was coming after he flew them in.

“Either that, or we sleep in the rain, Baltz,” Mary warned him.

The boy sighed, grabbed her hand, and a moment later they were inside. Baltz leant over the side of the wagon and vomited on the floor, barely missing Zeppelin. Mary patted him in the back but didn’t clean up; she was too tired, frankly.

The church was small and rather creepy in the night. The children walked closer to the altar, away from the smell of vomit, and then the older Winchester made her brother take some water and spit it.

“Are you alright? You were great, thank you, Baltz,” she gave her an encouraging smile, to which Baltz responded by shaking his head.

“I don’t like flying!” he sobbed.

“I know, I’m-”

“Who’s there?”

The children jumped as they turned to see an old priest barging in through a door. He didn’t look at all happy, and he barely changed his expression into a kinder one when he saw the children.

“How’d you get in here? What are you doing? The police are on their way!”

“Oh, no! No, please, tell them not to come. We just wanted to spend the night here, it’s raining outside,” Mary explained quickly, standing between her brothers and the man.

“You and a lot on people, little girl. This isn’t a homeless shelter.”

Mary automatically disliked him; wasn’t a man of God supposed to _help_ the homeless?

But she needed him. She needed him to call off the police, she needed to give her brothers shelter. If only she hadn’t used her grace so much, she could just wipe his memories away, but she thought she’d better let her grace rest for now, and Balthazar didn’t know how to influence people yet.

“We’re not homeless,” she said in a calm voice. “We’re travelling.”

“Well, travel elsewhere, then. The police will help you get where you’re going.”

“You need to call them off. You need to help us,” she told him in a determine tone, standing her ground, chin high with resolution.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I am an angel of the Lord and I command you to,” she told him. She expanded her wings and let the light of her grace slightly shine, casting long shadows of her wings on the wall.

The man’s jaw dropped, causing Balthazar to giggle.

“Half-an-” Mary elbowed him in the ribs before he could finish that sentence.

“Now, please,” she said as the light died out and the room descended in darkness again, “show us were we can sleep.”

The man closed his mouth, opened it to speak again but simply stared at the children for a while. He was shacking. Mary shifted impatiently.

“An angel…” he mumbled to himself. “I’ve been rewarded with an angel.”

The elder Winchester rolled her eyes; rewarded? For _what_ exactly?

There was a loud knock in the doors; Mary turned and saw the lights of the police car outside. The priest had barely registered the sound.

“You need to tell them to go away!” Mary urged the priest. “Do not tell them about us. Are you listening to me? Tell them you made a mistake.”

Mary pinched the guy with her grace, making him jump. He looked around, confused, then nodded and headed to the door while Mary pulled the wagon into the adjacent room, followed by Balthazar.

“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to tell people what we were,” Balthazar scolded her in a whisper while they could hear the priest talking to the police.

“I know, and that still stands. But this man- he wasn't gonna help us otherwise.”

“Grandpa Bobby always says catholic priests are idjits,” Baltz laughed, and Mary couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Don’t you go calling that man an idjit, Baltz. In fact, don’t talk to him at all if you can avoid it, alright? He’s not a nice person.”

Balthazar nodded and soon after the man came back. He seemed almost surprised to see the children still waiting for him there, and he laughed nervously as he showed them the way to a smaller room. He kept rambling on about God and how he was rewarding him by choosing him to be visited by angels, and Mary let them man convince himself he was good if that was going to let her keep her brothers warm for the night.

“What’s- what’s God like?” he asked them as Mary settled the sleeping bag over the mattress of a small bed. She couldn’t wait to sleep in a proper bed, it’d been over a week.

Balthazar laughed at the man, and Mary gave him a severe look that told him to stop.

“We- ugh- haven’t really seen him,” she answered. She wondered if she should have maybe lied, but she wasn’t very good at it.

“Of course, of course. He must be busy,” the man said like it was obvious, nodding to himself as he walked towards the door. Mary eyed him with curiosity, and also trying not to show how much she disliked him.

 _Busy?_ , she thought. As far as she knew, God had left a long time ago. He could be away creating new planets, or simply laying on a beach. These men, always found a way to satisfied themselves with unfunded theories.

“Good night,” Mary said, pressing the man to leave them alone.

“Good night,” he bowed slightly to her, smiling to himself, and walked away.

Once again, Mary had trouble sleeping, even though at least that night they laid in a comfortable bed. She looked at Zeppelin sleeping and wondered if he could remember their parents. What if they never came back? He’d never really get to know them, and it was a shame because they were the best parents, and they’d loved him so much.

Mary buried her feelings, again tucking in her soul inside her grace, smothering it.

 _More angel, less human_ , she told herself over and over again as she tried to quiet her mind and sleep.

In the morning, she woke up to see Zep and Balthazar having breakfast in the floor. Baltz was feeding the baby some baby food with his finger while he ate cookies with the other hand. She rolled over the bed and smiled. The middle brother was being extra helpful, lately, and she deeply appreciated the child stepping in to help. He was so tiny, so young, yet so good.

“Did the priest come?” she asked in a low, raspy voice.

“No. I think he has guests. I heard a lot of people coming in,” Baltz said.

 _It must be Sunday’s mass,_ Mary thought as she looked out and saw a lot of people coming in and out. It seemed it was over. Wow, she’d overslept a lot.

Watching the sky, listening to the thunders, Mary considered her options. They could go on, probably get wet along the way, and she’d definitely get all muddy, or they could wait the rain out another day. It seemed like the best option, but it wasn’t a good one nonetheless.

The younger boys made the decision for her, honestly. Balthazar played with his little car toys, running them over Zeppelin’s belly as the baby giggled and tried to reach for them. They looked peaceful, warm, safe… She could give them that, for a day.

The priest barely paid attention to them all day. It seemed to be a busy day at church. People were coming in and out, Mary watched them from the window. What kept people coming to church in such an awful weather? _Fanatics_ , she thought, shrugging.

It wasn’t until late that evening that the priest knocked in their door.

“Excuse me, angels,” he said, looking excited. “I’ve great news for you.”

“Huh?” Mary looked up, confused.

“There’s a fellow brother of yours asking to see you.”

Mary hesitated.

“A fellow brother? You mean, another angel?”

She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Other angels weren’t supposed to be able to find them, but… They were in their side. Right?

“Yes,” the priest nodded with excitement. “Come out, children, come out now. He’s waiting in the altar.”

Mary quickly gathered their stuff and laid Zeppelin in the wagon; wherever their fellow brethren would take them, it’d be better than staying here with the priest.

“Come on, Baltz, let’s go.”

“Do you think they know where papa and daddy are?” Baltz asked with excitement as he grabbed his toys.

“Hopefully,” Mary smiled, trying not to get her hopes up, but she felt the same joy she saw in her brother’s face starting to crawl up her spine; angels, they were good a sign. They’d help them, they always had.

Amar was waiting by the altar. He’d already been travelling South when he’d heard word of the priest preaching about being visited by angels, he’d heard people pray, asking the angels to aid them too, so he’d made his way to the church. He didn’t know what to expect, but he prepared nonetheless, waiting with the blade secure inside his sleeve, a moment away from dropping it into his hands. When the priest came back, followed by three children, he instantly knew it was them; he could see their grace and soul, the mix was a powerful aberration that irradiated a terribly immense energy. His mouth opened in surprise when he saw the children’s wings; they were a shiny black, with lower dark blue silver feathers. He knew those wings very well, they were the same as the last angel he’d seen; _Castiel_.

“Four angels,” the priest talked excitedly. “God’s sent four angels.”

Mary came forward; she’d never met Amar, but the priest hadn’t been wrong, this was an angel, she could see his wings. But there was something odd about him, Mary thought. His wings… They looked drastically damaged.

“Hello,” Mary greeted him, “do you know where our-”

Amar stabbed the girl before she could even finish her sentence. Mary looked at him, frozen, while the blade came in and out of her. The child fell backwards, a hand flying to her stomach. Her grace and soul started convulsing in on each other, one trying to save the other. Mary’s grace had been severely pierced and couldn’t cure the physical injury, and it held onto the soul to keep her alive, though she was bleeding out, fast. She didn’t know how she could die, what could kill her, but as the blood ran through her fingers, she thought that must be what dying felt like. Could an injury so severe kill her if she didn’t heal herself?

“No!” Balthazar screamed. There was a second of silence, and Amar watched his grace shrunk and then expand forwards. He couldn’t fly away to avoid the impact, and a wave of grace flew towards him as the boy extended a hand in his direction, rage and panic running through the child.

Amar flew several feet away, crashed into a wall and fell to the floor as he contorted in pain.

Balthazar begun to cry and ran to Mary. The ground trembled beneath them and Zep started to cry as well as the priest watched the events unfolding in front of him with disbelief.

“Mary-” Balthazar was shaking violently as he watched the blood soaking her t-shirt.

Amar started to rise again, blade still in his hand.

“Go,” Mary pushed her brother away. “He- he can’t fly. Go. _Leave._ ”

“No!” Baltz shook his head. “Heal yourself!”

“I- I can’t.” Mary laid on the ground, crawling into a ball. “You have to go.”

Balthazar grabbed her arm and healed her… But it didn’t work. He tried, over and over again, but the magic of the angel blade wouldn’t allow the wound to heal.

“It’s not working!” he cried hysterically.

The portraits and decorations in the walls fell and the windows exploded. Zep cried more and more, worsening the earthquake.

Mary was seeing black spots, and her eyelids felt heavy.

“Go, Balthazar, go,” she kept mumbling.

“I don’t want to leave you!”

Mary's eyes closed. Balthazar turned as Amar stumbled towards him. He clenched his hands into fists. He was beyond furious and stressed out of his control. His soul took over his grace, controlling it as his own mind lost control. The boy rose to his feet and light emanated from him. He reached a hand towards him and Amar flew back towards the wall again, hanging high above the ground, chocking.

“Heal her!” he ordered, screaming in his angel voice.

His grace was ripping Amar’s apart.

“Heal her!” he told him again.

“I can heal her,” a calm voice said from the door.

Balthazar turned, his hand still raised towards Amar, holding him up there. He saw the witch’s dark soul but he didn’t care.

“You can?” he spoke in a softer voice.

“I can. If you come with me.”

Rowena walked carefully but with determination towards the children. She offered the boy a somewhat kind smile, as kind as she could fake it, and knelt down to examine the injury. Two other witches, one male and the other female, walked through the door and towards them.

“Heal her, please,” the boy pleaded, tears running down his face, the light diminishing.

The red-hair witch softly stroked Mary’s cheek. She didn’t heal, and she was pale as a ghost, but the bleeding seemed to stop.

“We need to go somewhere else to heal her properly. Come with us, little angel.”

She offered her hand to Balthazar and he took it without thinking. Balthazar watch the male witch pick Mary up and the other take Zep into her arms, hushing him and rocking him, patting his little butt. All of their souls were black and he knew what that meant; they used black magic. But they could save Mary and that was good enough a reason for him to go with them. He grabbed hold of the wagon, foolishly thinking they could just go on like before afterwards.

Rowena turned around and gave Amar a smug, triumphant smirk. She owed him, really, he’d made things so much easier fof her. Together, the group walked out the church and got in a car.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Rowena stroke the boy’s hair and wiped his tears away with a fancy handkerchief. “Everything’s going to be all right. I’ve got you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: (tumblr users) supernaturalfreewill ; hunterchesters ; puppycastiel ; supernaturalwanderlust ; disneyandthefamilybusiness  
> (gifs might be edited from the original to fit the story)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you say you're not gonna post because you have to study but you can't study because you can't stop thinking about writing the following chapter...  
> Loads of gifs in this one, I got a bit carried away.  
> Enjoy, guys! Thanks for the comments and for sticking around in general <3

The earthquake was felt all over town, even in the other side, right where Castiel and Dean had rented a room in a cheap motel. It was an unusual zone for earthquakes, and Dean knew that, but his suspicion that this event was atypical was confirmed when Castiel barged into the room and ordered Dean to get in the car. The man obeyed without asking any questions and drove through town as fast as he could without running over alarmed citizens who were running out of buildings. It was the nephilim, Castiel was sure, the power that flowed all around the town was familiar, something that felt similar to that of grace, but several times stronger. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and archangels’ presence was the only thing he could compare it to.

As sudden as the seismic activity had begun, it ended. Dean kept driving towards the direction Cas had felt the energy originating from, until the two of them reached a church. Glass from the now shattered windows were scattered all around outside the building. There were cracks in the ground, even in the pavement and Dean had trouble driving through them, worried Baby might get damaged. People screaming hysterically, stammering about God punishing them and apocalyptic things of that sort.

Castiel didn't even wait until the car had fully stopped before he was out of the car and running in.

The insides of the building were in terrible conditions, things broken all around. To the left, Amar laid on the ground with the priest kneeling next to him. To a human, the injuries were invisible, but Castiel saw the deep, painful rips in the angel’s grace, like a cat that had scratched long lines down the curtains of a living-room.

“Brother!” Castiel ran to Amar to help him, but the other angel raised his blade threateningly in Cas’ direction. He couldn’t help but notice there was blood in it, but Amar seemed unharmed.

“You!” he hissed as he watched his brother with disgust. “How could you? You lied to me- to _all_ of us. How could you have been so reckless, Castiel?”

Castiel stopped dead in his tracks as his brother pointed the blade at him. He was enraged, ready to attack.

“What are you talking about, brother? Put your blade down!”

“Stop pretending for _once_ ! I saw their wings, Castiel! They have your wings, they're _your_ children!” Amar hugged his stomach with one arm and stumbled to his feet while he pushed the stunned priest away. “I've warned our brethren, and now everyone knows what a traitor to your kind you are. It wasn't enough to love humanity more than your own kind. You had to go and _breed_ with them too!”

Cas’ face fell. What the hell was Amar talking about? "That's impossible. I haven't-”

“Are they Winchesters? Are they _Dean’s_?” Castiel’s face burned a furious red at the suggestion. “We always suspected but- how could you!”

Amar launched himself towards Cas, blade in hand, and Castiel didn't even try to stop him. He wanted to stop, he wanted to talk, to discuss this, but Amar had other plans in mind.

But the angel never got to Cas; before his blade could pierce Castiel’s flesh, Dean shot him from the door.

Amar felt backwards and a blinding light emanated from him. After their last encounter with the angel, Dean had loaded his gun with angel-killing bullets. He wasn’t going to let that guy hurt anyone, and he wasn’t going to let him go hunting after the kids like Cas had.

“No!” Cas felt to his knees next to his brother, but it was too late. Shadows of black wings were painted across the floor and walls. He turned to look at Dean with a grieving and angry expression on his face. “Why did you do that! You didn’t have to shoot him, Dean!”

Dean huffed, raising his eyebrows as his own temper rose. “Was I supposed to _let him_ attack you, Cas?”

“We could have stopped him, we could have- you didn’t have to-”

Cas back turned around, looking down at the body of Amar.

He punch the ground beneath him, leaving a hole in the tiles. He felt so guilty, so _lost_. His family kept dying all around him, usually _because_ _of him_. They weren’t so wrong, after all, to be afraid of him, to hate him.

In front of him, the priest squealed as Dean knelt down in front of him and grabbed him by the robes, forcing Castiel back to reality.

“What happened here?” Dean growled with agitation, trying to shake the man back into sense.

The man simply looked around the place with a wild look in his face, his mouth hanging open. His eyes barely registered Dean. He was scared stupid.

Dean grabbed the blade and shook the priest again. “Whose blood is this? What happened?”

“The angels- he- he attacked the girl!” the man stuttered.

Dean’s stomach dropped. He looked around, half-expecting to see a body he’d missed, and though there was blood just next to the altar, there was no body.

“The children, where are they!?”

“A woman- she- she t-took them!”

“What woman?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know!”

“What was she like?” Dean asked, grabbing the priest’s face with a hand and forcing him to look at Dean in the eye.

“Red hair- foreign accent.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Dean cursed. He had a feeling he knew who that was. “ _Scottish_ accent?”

The priest nodded an unnecessary amount of times.

“The girl. Is she alive?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know,” the priest shrugged. “The woman, she said she could cure her.”

Dean let the man go and got to his feet. He took one look at the pool of blood and ran out of the building. He looked down the street, both ways. A town like this, it most likely didn’t have any security cameras. How the fuck was he going to know which way they went? And Rowena… She was good at hiding when she wanted to.

But what did she want with the children? Why did she take them? She never did things selflessly, never worked for the greater good. Whatever her intentions were, they couldn’t be good. And Mary was hurt. The amount of blood Dean had seen… He tried not to think about it.

Could Rowena really save Mary? _Would_ she, in exchange for nothing?

The Winchester nervously ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of a way to find them. But worry and anger clouded his mind, as he couldn’t think of a fast solution. Castiel was standing next to him, watching him. He looked terribly upset, and a part of Dean wanted to comfort him, wanted to be sorry for having killed a brother of his just now, but most of his brain was now controlled by the part that blamed Castiel for what had happened. _He_ had let Amar go, and the angel had then attacked Mary. If Castiel hadn’t let his brother go days ago, maybe Dean and Castiel would have found the kids by now. They’d been _so_ close.

Dean clenched his hands into fists.

Had Amar cut her? Had he _stabbed_ her? Was the girl even still alive? Could she survive being stabbed by an angel blade?

“Get in the car,” Dean hissed under his breath, and jumped into the Impala, closely followed by Castiel.

They drove around town fast, but they couldn’t find anything suspicious, any car with a license plate that caught their eye, no redhead witch.

Desperation got the best of him, and Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, took a deep breath trying to calm himself down, but failed, “Fuck!” he yelled.

Dean decided to drive back to the motel, pick up their belongings that had been left behind earlier and get the hell out of town; he’d shot a man in front of someone, who knew what story the priest was going to tell and what the policemen were going to make of it. They’d better be out of the authorities’ hands. Dean tried to drive around the edges of town, tried to find a place they could have gone to, but there were just not traces of the children. Rowena would not be easily found.

Cas was silent the whole way, mostly looking out the window. Dean stole glances in his direction from time to time. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He wanted to yell at Cas, out of the top of his lungs, so badly, but what good would that do? What was done, was done, and a part of him knew Castiel was probably beating himself up in silence anyway.

And, boy, was he right. The angel’s insides were clenching as his feelings took over him. His fists rested on his knees, his breath was uneven. He thought of Mary just as much as Dean did. He was waiting in silence, listening very carefully, hoping he’d hear her voice, hoping she’d pray to him and show him she was still alive, but no one said his name.

What if she was dead? It’d be his fault. All of this, it was his fault. He should have never let Amar go, Dean had been right, but at the same time, he couldn’t help grieving the death of the angel. He wanted it all to just _stop_ , he wanted everyone and everything, every race, species and creature, to just _stop_ hurting each other.

And then, there was what Amar had said...

It was impossible. He had to be lying. But why? Why would he lie about that? Why would he say they had his wings?

Finally, Dean had enough of the silence. He squeezed the steering wheel, gathering his thoughts.

“Cas…” he didn’t know where to start as he turned slowly in his seat.

Castiel shook his head, not looking back at Dean.

Dean sighed, trying to let the best side of him take over. “Cas,” he spoke more firmly, reaching over to squeeze the angel’s shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

The angel chuckled humorlessly. What kind of stupid question was that?

But Dean waited patiently, his hand still firmly posed in Cas’ shoulder. _Start with an easier question,_ he told himself.

“What did he say to you?” Dean asked. “Before he attacked you, what did he say to you? I couldn’t hear.”

Castiel swallowed hard. For some reason, he was embarrassed to talk about it. It was lies, it was all lies, but all his brethren knew, Amar had told them before he’d died, so why keep this from Dean? He’d find out, eventually, surely.

“He said… the children had my wings.”

That may have been an obvious explanation for Castiel, but Dean waited with a confused expression for the angel to go on.

“Okay…?”

“You don’t understand, you can’t see wings. They’re one of a kind. All of us have different wings. The nephilim’s wings would be like the ones of their angel parent.”

Dean didn’t realise he was pulling his hand away from Castiel.

Did that mean what he thought it meant?

“So… They’re _your_ children?”

The man’s heart was suddenly beating fast. He clenched his jaw and looked straight forward. A wave of overwhelming emotions rose in his gut in less than a second. He tried not to be angry, not to feel betrayed, but what the actual _fuck_. Could the angel really be living that much of a double life? April and Daphne had happened a long time ago, and Dean had done his best trying to forget how he’d felt when he’d found Castiel with either woman. He couldn’t understand why he’d felt so personally offended, personally misguided, when Cas had chosen to be physically intimate with those women, and he’d never really dwelled on the subject for too long. He had locked those memories up in the section of things you shouldn’t poke at when you’re alone at night and your mind wanders uncontrollably. Castiel wasn’t with them anymore, anyway, so it wasn’t a problem, or so had Dean thought.

But now those feelings, those unresolved grudges, were popping right back out, and he hated himself for worrying about something so stupid when so many other more important, more pressing things were happening.

“No, they’re not mine,” Cas replied.

“Cas,” Dean spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t lie to me, man.”

“I’m not lying,” the angel rose his voice as he finally turned around to look at Dean.

Dean looked back at him, and found that Castiel’s expression seemed sincere, though angry. He took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, and said, “maybe you didn’t know, maybe-”

“I said they’re not mine, Dean. If I had children-” Cas cut himself short, knowing better than to say outloud what his mind had come up with on the spur of the moment. _If I had children, I’d have them with you._ “I think I’d know,” he finished with a dry, sarcastic edge. “They’re not mine, I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“But you have before.”

The tone in Dean’s voice made the statement almost an accusation. Cas observed him with his eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand the tone in his voice. He’d lied his fair share of times, that was true, but how could Dean think he’d keep _this_ big of a secret, for so long?

Dean felt like an idiot,  _childish_ really; how many women had  _he_ slept with? But he couldn't help himself, he couldn't stop it from bothering him, though he had no right to be mad at Castiel.

“For the last time, I’m _not_ lying, Dean,” Castiel spoke both in anger and sadness. He’d sure earned himself the title of unreliable, but he thought Dean and him were past not trusting each other.

“Then why would Amar say that?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel sighed. “Maybe- maybe he was confused, maybe he didn’t see them right. My wings, they’re very dark, he could have confused the hues,” Cas shrugged.

The older Winchester sat there wondering what the angel’s wings looked like. He had, very dumbly, always imagined them white, as in every portrait of angels he’d ever seen. He hadn’t at all expected them to be dark.

“It doesn’t matter, really. All my brethren now thinks they’re mine. I’m going to be as hunted as the children. Dean,” his tone became softer, “I think we should part ways.”

Dean stared back at him dumbly.

“‘The hell are you talking about, Cas?” he blurted out impulsively. “No fucking way.”

“Dean, you’d be in danger. You don’t want the wrath of my kind on your shoulders.”

“I’m a Winchester, Cas!” he exclaimed. “When _haven’t_ I been in danger!”

“This is different, I am serious,” Castiel shifted in his sit. Dean had to understand how serious the situation was. There would be no angel that’d spear him now, if they came across one.

“So am I!”

Dean was furious at Cas for even suggesting to split up. They looked at each other, one trying to convince the other telepathically through a staring contests.

No, no fucking way Dean was letting Cas fly solo again. The angel had a freaking annoying habit of disappearing, and the Winchester was _so_ done with that shit. He didn’t care how risky it was, there was no way he was letting Cas go.

And if Cas was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he’d find it in him to leave Dean behind either. He knew exactly how it’d affect Dean if he walked out on him in the middle of the night, and he couldn’t do it. He also didn’t _want_ to, but that was being selfish, putting his own feelings before Dean’s safety.

“I can’t promise I’ll keep you safe, Dean,” Cas whispered with a heavy heart.

“Right back at you, Cas, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

Cas was glad it was too dark for Dean to see him blushing. He looked down, unable to hold Dean’s stare any longer. There, Dean had won.

“Just… Please don’t walk out on me, Cas,” Dean spoke in a hushed voice. “I want to go to sleep and not be afraid that when I wake up, you’ll be gone.”

Cas sighed. “Dean…” he shook his head. “You’d be better off without me. I make mistake after mistake. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have let Amar walk away the first time but-” Cas hunched his shoulders forwards, clenching his fists so hard until his knuckles were white.

The gentle touch of Dean’s hand was back in his shoulder. The angel could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabrics of clothing.

“You try to do right by everyone, Cas. If that’s your worst quality, I’ll take it.” The man squeezed his shoulder affectionately. The corner of the angel’s lips tentatively curled up. He loved Dean’s kind heart, the way he always found a way to turn things around to see the best in people, the way he always forgave Cas for his countless, never-ending mistakes. And yet he never saw how good _he_ was.

“Mary-”

“Is alive,” Dean interrupted him. “If she was bleeding,” he swallowed hard at the thought, but kept going, “it means the blade didn’t kill her. Maybe angel blades can’t kill nephilims. Rowena’s powerful. If someone can help her, it’s her.”

“But why? It’s no coincidence she happened to find them. She must have been looking for them.”

“We're obviously not the only ones looking for them, Cas. They’re powerful, maybe not only angels see them as a threat.”

Cas shook his head. _They’re just children_ , he thought. _They deserve better._ Sam had been right. Even after what Cas felt that afternoon, all the power that flowed through town, he couldn’t stop thinking of them as only the children who prayed for his help. They hadn’t hurt anybody, they could have crushed Amar and yet they didn’t. Sure, the earthquake must have certainly caused damages, but that had been the children trying to defend themselves, he couldn’t really blame them and categorize them as monsters. If Amar hadn’t provoked them, they would have probably gone by unnoticed.

“We need Sam,” Dean sighed. “Bitch won’t answer my calls. I wonder where the hell he is.”

Little did he know, Sam wasn’t far behind them. Jody had called him to let him know a man had reported seeing a child with a baby in his property, playing with his cows. When he went out into the field to get the children to wait for the police, they were nowhere to be found. The description of the child was similar to the one Sam was looking for. The younger Winchester drove South and kept an eye out for any signs of children without parents, but found nothing.

Until the day of the earthquake. Sam had drove into town not long before the strange event took place. It was the closest town south to where the man's farm had been. He couldn’t really know where the origin of the seismic activity was without Cas, but news travelled fast in the small town, and people were panicking while they shared stories of the local priest swearing he’d been visited by angels, right before the mysterious earthquake took place. Now people wondered if they had not perhaps been visited by darker beings. It didn’t help that there was a man dead at the church. The priest was brought into the police station for questioning, and was being held there. So, Sam Winchester suited up, grabbed his FBI badge and went to talk to the priest. It wasn’t hard to get him to talk about what he saw, a man of faith spoke more freely of the supernatural, and  Sam didn’t like one bit what he heard. His suspicions were confirmed; these children were the nephilim Cas and the other angels were looking for, and by the looks of it, they’d found them. He felt sick as he wondered what had happened to Mary. Was she dead? Did she survive the stab? Did Dean find her? Because the description of the two men who came into the church afterwards, obviously belonged to his brother and Cas. Whenever he heard ‘trench-coat’, he knew people were talking about Cas.

Sam stood outside his motel room and considered his options.

He could call Dean. He could call a truce and join them. But what if Castiel hadn’t changed his mind? He didn’t like the second option that popped into his mind; Crowley. Rowena had taken the children, he was sure. And if anyone knew Rowena well, it was Crowley.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it backwards, and got his phone out of his pocket. He supposed he could try, it didn’t hurt asking, and then he could call Dean…

Crowley’s number was in his list, and he hated himself for it, but he waited, looking down at the phone, as he pressed call.

“Moose,” Crowley’s voice said courtly from the other side.

“Crowley, hmm, hey.”

“What do you want now?”

“You’re not going to ask me how I’m doing?” Sam said with an edge of sarcasm. He should play nice, but he didn’t like pretending to be friendly with the demon.

“I’d love to chat with you, really, but I’m rather busy at the moment. So be quick, or be gone.”

Sam sighed. Right down to business, then. “Rowena. I need to find her. What do you know about her?”

There was a moment of silence, and Sam wondered if the call had dropped, but then Crowley spoke in a slightly more assertive tone. “What do you want with her?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Didn’t know you were so protective of her, Crowley. Warms my heart.”

Crowley laughed from the other side of the line, but he didn’t sound amused at all.

“I suppose you know, don’t you? About the little angels, I mean.”

The young Winchester shifted, uncomfortable at the thought of Crowley speaking of the children. Little angels, he could only mean one thing by that…

Why did he know? _How_ did he know? If demons were hunting these children, in top of angels… He had to hurry the fuck up to find them.

“How do _you_ know about the nephilim?”

“News travels fast,” Crowley answered vaguely. “And news are, my dear mother has them now.”

“So, you _do_ know where she is?”

“No. But trust me, I’m trying to find her. My mother- she doesn’t help people out of kindness. She wants something with these kids. That kind of power, in her hands…” Sam hears Crowley taking a long breath in. “Can’t be good news for anybody.”

“And if you find her- what are you going to do?”

Crowley laughed. “No need to beat around the bush, Moose. Just ask what you want to ask. You want to know what I’d do with the kids, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“I’d do what everyone wants to do, really,” he spoke without any trace of sympathy or mercy. “I think it’s the first time every species agrees on something. Those kids are a threat to everyone. And I’m really tired of annoying creatures messing with my business. I keep Hell neat. Does anyone bother thanking me for that? No.”

“They’re just kids, Crowley,” Sam hisses through gritted teeth. “You’d better stay away from them.”

“You’ve a better plan?”

“Yes. I’m going to find those kids, and I’m going to take them with me. They’re not going to bother you, they’re not going to bother _anyone_. But if you so much as lay a hand on them-”

“Ugh, so _hostile_ ,” Crowley rolls his eyes. “Of course you were going to play the mamma bear card. You’re so predictable, Samuel.”

“I mean it, Crowley.”

“I know, I know better than to take your threats in vain. You can be a real pain in the ass when you want to.”

“So let’s not make this into an argument. Help me find them. I’ll keep them out of your way, it’s a win-win situation.”

Crowley sighs, forever cursing Sam under his breath.

“I really don’t know where they are. Mother was last seen with two other witches, a british couple. They’re from an old family of witches, very powerful. If she’s teaming up with them, it can’t be good either. She doesn't like to play in teams. My guess is, she’ll dump them soon and take the children for herself. For what purpose? I don’t know.”

“Okay. If you hear anything else, you call me.”

“I’m not your bloody assistant,” Crowley huffs.

“Yeah, okay. Just keep your demons away from the children.”

“Sure, Moose, whatever. Get those children under control. I’ve got to warn you though, there are demons that don’t play by my rules, and I know they will be hunting the kids too.”

It wasn't until late that night, he finally got the courage to call Dean. His brother answered right away, and he sounded pissed and upset, but there was a sigh there that told Sam he was also somewhat glad he'd finally called.

"Hey, Dean. We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: (tumblr users, as ever) samspurpletoothbrush ; codestielckles ; kingofthecrxssroads ; castieledits ; inacatastrophicmind ; itsokaysammy ; lesbianlenas


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for the comments and all the hits, wow, Wednesday's chapter got loads of hits, I was surprised. You guys are awesome.  
> Enjoy.

Balthazar wept softly as he knelt next to Mary's bed and held her blood-stained hand in both his hands. The blonde laid completely still in the bed, looking two scales paler than usual, eyes closed as she remained unconscious. Rowena had lifted the child's shirt a little to work on the wound, applying a strange looking kind of ointment she'd prepared in a rush. Balthazar could smell the blood and it made him sick in the stomach, but he refused to leave his sister's side. He avoided looking at the wound in her stomach, and laid his forehead against the side of her as he kept his eyes closed. Fat tears ran down his chubby cheeks.

A couple of feet behind them, Byron and Adeliza watched as Rowena worked on the nephilim. Adeliza held baby Zep in her arms, and by the looks of it, she wasn't at all comfortable in the role of nanny. The baby was positioned awkwardly in her arms, and the only reason Zeppelin wasn't fussing by the uncomfortable embrace was because he was sleepy; it was passed his bedtime. They'd driven fast and without stop until they'd reached a very nice-looking cabin in the woods; top notch appliances, modern design, more room than needed for every guest. Only the best for the British witches. Rowena loved it, she enjoyed the benefits of sticking around with these two; wherever they stopped, it was always classy and comfortable. She'd better make use of it, while she could. Alliances never lasted long with her.

Byron and Adeliza shared a look of concern; Mary hadn't so much as attempted to open her eyes since they'd found the children. Rowena had stopped the bleeding, but the child didn't seem to be improving. The couple knew she was the only witch that had real experience with angels, the others of their kind tried to stay as far away from them as possible, but Rowena was a highly unusual witch… And they needed Mary to improve, they needed her to be up to full power. If Rowena didn't save her... Well, they'd have to get rid of her, really, and they'd rather not betray her; the old witch had a habit of getting back at people who crossed her, sooner or later, and they'd rather not piss her off. They intended on keeping their side of the deal, unlike Rowena (not that they knew that, of course).

Finally, Rowena covered Mary's wound with a bandage, sighed with a bit of exhaustion and got to her feet. Balthazar followed her every move with his deep blue eyes. They shone more than ever, tears working as magnifying glass.

"Is she okay?" he asked in a higher pitch, between sobs. 

"She's going to need some time to recover, dear," Rowena answered as she cleaned her hands with a towel. Fancy, soft thing it was, with Byron's family crest and all.

"But she'll live?"

He held Mary's hand more tightly than ever. She didn't hold his back, obviously. He was half expecting her to interlock their fingers at any moment, open her eyes and give her a sleepy smile. It hadn't happened yet. It'd been hours since the attack, and she wasn't moving in the slightest. 

"Yes, she'll live," Rowena nodded, then gave Byron and Adeliza a meaningful look. The brits let out small sighs of relief; not because they were  _really_  concerned about the child's life, but their own.

"Thank you, thank you!" Balthazar got to his feet, realising Mary's hand for the first time in hours, and threw his arms around Rowena's waist. The witch stood still awkwardly, blinking fast, looking around the room, not really knowing what to do. She wasn't at all used to physical affection, let alone coming from a child. She patted the boy's back rather rigidly twice and started walking away, forcing the child to let her go.

"Why don't you stay here, dear? We'll, hmm, get something to clean you up with, some clothes too."

The three witches looked at the boy up and down; his clothes were covered in blood, so were his hands and he'd managed to get stains in his face too. His nose was a mess of snot, and none of them seemed too eager to help clean up the boy; these weren't really the maternal type of people, and Rowena figured she'd end up being the one that had to deal with the kids, since she was the only one who had some kind of experience with children. She'd managed to keep Fergus alive, at least, when he was little, before leaving him.

Balthazar nodded; he'd do anything she told him, he owed her too much. He should know better than to trust a group of witches, but the boy was shocked and scared out of his wits, and he had a bad tendency of expecting the best out of everyone. Baltz needed the witches to keep his sister alive. If they were helping, they couldn't be that bad, right?

But as the group of witches backed towards the door of the bedroom, he did take a step forward, suddenly anxious to have his baby brother taken away from his sight;  _take care of your little brother, Balthazar_ , that had always been something Dean had taught him. Leaving him to strangers... Something told him his father wouldn't like him to do that.

"Can I-" his cheeks burnt with embarrassment. Baltz was a quite naughty when he wanted to, his grandpa usually called him cheeky monkey when he found the child sneaking around the house with a look that told the older man he was up to something... But he wasn't used to strangers and he suddenly found himself feeling shy, which gave him a disadvantage; he didn't know how to say no, how to stand his ground. He'd been sheltered too much. "My brother- Can he stay, please?"

Adeliza gave a sigh of relief and nodded. "Sure." Anything to get that heavy lump away from her. She passed the baby on to Balthazar, not really caring to be gentle, and Zep woke up. Baltz barely caught him and sat down quickly on the floor to better position the child in his lap. He hugged his brother and rested his back against the bed Mary laid on. As the witches retreated from the room, Balthazar tried his best to put his wings around his younger brother to rock him back to sleep as Mary always did with them. It was a good thing he was sitting down and laying against the bed, because with the mess of emotions that ran furiously through his soul, it was almost impossible to detach himself from his grace and control it. 

In the living room, the witches gathered around Rowena.

"Is she  _really_  going to live?" Byron asked.

"Yes, Byron. She'll heal."

In reality, there wasn't much Rowena could do for Mary, but she didn't want to give away that information; the child would heal... herself. Her own grace needed time to put itself back together, and when it did, when she got stronger, she'd heal herself. Rowena was sure Mary wouldn't have died even if she didn't patch up her physical form, she would had simply taken longer to mend her injuries, and might have appeared to be dead for a while. In reality, the child was powerful beyond Rowena's wildest dreams. Amar had caught the girl in a moment of low grace; Mary had been using too much of it lately, and was tired. But she got stronger with every passing hour, and eventually she would wake up.

"We found them just in time," Adeliza smiled, pleased with the situation. "That angel really made things easier for us."

They'd been preparing to perhaps having to put up a fight with the children to take them into their custody, but thanks to Amar, the witches had had a pretty genuine reason to convince the kids to come with them.

"A real blessing," Rowena smiled.

“When do you think she’ll be ready for the spell?” Byron asks with a wicked, hopeful smile.

“I think we should wait until she’s back to full power,” Rowena tells him, though she’s not sure when that’ll be. “Otherwise, we may risk extracting weaker grace… And none of us wants that.”

They pass glances between one another… No, no one wants that. If they’re going to steal the kids’ mix of grace and soul, and keep them to themselves, one for each witch, they’d better get the most of it.

“How long do you think it’ll take, Rowena?”

“It’s impossible to be sure. But at least a couple of days.”

Adeliza sighs and crosses her arms; _days_? Days stuck with the kids? With a _baby_? He’d better not wake her up…

"I have some clothes prepared for the children," Byron announces casually, looking over to the redhead again. "Rowena, would you mind cleaning the boy up? You've more... experience, with kids, don’t you?"

Rowena sighs and rolls her eyes; she’d expected (and fear) this. _You have a child once hundreds of years ago and you get the nanny duties thrown off to you,_ she thinks with annoyance.

“Alright,” she agrees not without giving them a dirty look. It’s too late to argue. She’d rather get it over with and go to bed, the witch is tired from the day’s action. She makes her way to the bathroom to get a wet towel and another dry one to clean up the boy. Byron gives her the clothes he’d bought in advance, then disappears into his room for the night, followed by Adeliza closely behind him; _great_ , Rowena thinks, _they get some action while I have to clean the kid’s nose._ She’d need a glass of wine before cleaning a kid’s nose, so she stopped in the kitchen for a moment to pour herself a glass of expensive wine; Byron’s treat.

Back in the children’s bedroom, Balthazar had opened the sleeping bag and placed it in the ground next to the bed. He’d tucked his little brother in and was trying to get him to sleep, but Zeppelin was still a little fuzzy. He wanted to rock him with his grace, but he wasn’t very good at it, and the child was emotionally and physically drained for the day.

“Alright, dear, off with the shirt,” Rowena ordered as she entered the room. She made sure to keep her voice down and in a gentle tone, to both avoid further waking the baby (she knew very well not to disturb a sleeping baby) and to keep herself in the young nephilim’s good side; she needed him to be friendly with them, with _her_. Last thing she wanted was for the child to turn on them. It was wiser to keep him content and with a fake sensation of being safe in their presence.

Balthazar followed her order, giving his brother a last glance to make sure he was falling asleep again before taking off his shirt. He dropped it on the floor, away from the sleeping bag, trying to ignore the blood in it. Rowena knelt in front of him and started cleaning his hands, arms and belly with the wet towel. Baltz observed the witch, observed her _soul_ , as she worked with the towel. Her dark, twisted soul was somewhat terrifying but at the same time he felt a great deal pity for her, because he knew where she’d end up when she died, he knew of Hell already. Bad souls go to Hell, and Hell didn’t sound very nice, though his parents had made sure he didn’t hear much about that dark place. He wondered why her soul looked that way, what had caused the dark stains to consume the light that usually shone in regular souls, and the curious side of him wanted to ask, but he remained timidly quiet.

“Blow your nose,” Rowena ordered again as she held a handkerchief to his nose. The boy obeyed again, to the witch’s pleasure; he seemed rather docile for a celestial being of immense power. She felt rather luckily the older one had been stabbed instead of this one.

“What’s your name?” Baltz asked, gaining a little courage to speak.

“Rowena… I’m a witch,” she said with a proud smile.

“I know what you are,” he said. “I can see your soul.”

Rowena looked up, taken aback. That seemed like a bit of a slap to her face, though she could tell that’s not how the child had meant it; he was simply stating the obvious, since dark magic gave way to dark souls. He hadn’t sounded judgemental, but rather sad.

“You can?” she swallowed hard, the cleared her throat. She wondered if that was a bad thing. Maybe the child would see right through them, see their true bad intentions in a reflection of their dark souls.

“Yes… My dad… he says witches are evil…” Balthazar eyes the witch with curiosity as she hands him a new t-shirt. Rowena looks a little worry for a moment, wondering if this is when the kid finally smites her.

“Well,” Rowena laughs forcefully, “I suppose he doesn’t know all of us, does he?”

“I guess not,” Baltz mumbles, more to himself than to Rowena, as he considers her words. He puts the t-shirt on rather clumsily, and Rowena helps his arms through the holes. “You don’t seem bad… But your soul’s black, you’re not supposed to be nice.”

The witch huffs a laugh. “But nice girls, they’re pathetic. I rather be a little bad, though I can be a little good too, can’t I? I helped your sister, after all.”

Balthazar shrugs, not sure of what to think. He’s always been told he’s a good boy and that that’s the way to go, though he drives Dean a little crazy with his daily innocent mischiefs. You could be a little bit bad and a little bit good, he supposed, but his soul wasn’t definitely _that_ dark. Either way, he’s thankful for her help.

“May I ask you something?” Balthazar nods. “Where are your parents?”

Balthazar sighs; the last the kid needed was to think of his missing parents right now. “Mary says they’re in another story.”

Rowena draws her eyebrows together in confusion. “Okay… And what’s the name of your parents, dear? I could help you look for them.” _And get rid of them,_ she thinks.

“Mary says I’m not supposed to say that,” Balthazar answers vaguely as he moves to lay next to Zeppelin.

“Why not?”

“Bad people don’t like our name,” he answers, though the explanation doesn’t make too much sense to either him or Rowena. He hasn’t really understood the problem with their family name.

The witch crosses her arms around her chest with impatience; trying to get answers from the kid is like talking to a wall.

“Alright, then, dear… Good night.”

Rowena turns and moves to the door, taking a zip of wine, but Balthazar calls out to her.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, sounding upset all over again. Rowena closes her eyes, telling herself to put on a smile, before turning around.

“Yes, Balthazar, get some rest.”

“Can you… tell me a story?” Balthazar asks shily. Truth is, he doesn’t want to stay in the room, lights off, all by himself. He’s worried, anxious beyond measure, dispirited and confused. Everything seems upside down. His papa wasn’t answering his prayers, Grandpa Bobby wasn’t in his house, an angel had attacked Mary and witches had come to their aid. Right now, the child needed someone to hold him when his sister couldn’t, he didn’t want to be alone.

Rowena could see that, could almost smell the need for affection emanating from the kid, and she was torn between wanting to go to bed and be in peace, and wanting to keep the child as content as possible with her.

In the end, she decided she’d try luck and send the child off to bed; it was better not to interact too much with the kid anyway.

“Sorry, love, I think it’s time you go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” Rowena gave him a convincing fake smile and turned off the lights, leaving Balthazar sitting alone in the dark.

The boy let his grace shine from within a little, casting shadows in the room. He didn’t feel comfortable in the dark in a strange room, and he found himself kneeling by Mary’s bed again. He tucked Zep in properly and then picked up the wet towel Rowena had left on the floor. He moved over to Mary and started cleaning her arms and hands, moving the wet fabric tenderly up and down her skin. He didn’t dare going anywhere close to the injury in her stomach though. When he thought he’d done a relatively good job, he climbed into bed next to her and the wall.

“Mary?” he whispered. He searched for her hand and grabbed it. “Can you hear me?”

He waited in silence, but Mary never answered. He could feel tears coming to his eyes again. He wanted so badly for her to wake up and help him, he was so afraid he’d lose control and cause another earthquake. The boy couldn’t even breakdown and cry in peace. Luckily, in a way at least, he was tired; the long day and its hardship had taken a toll on him, and his mind became cloudy with exhaustion rather fast as he laid next to her sister. She felt cold. He pulled a cover over the both of them and hugged Mary’s arm, hiding his face in her shoulder as he cried quietly, in a very human way, falling asleep between sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GIF sources (tumblr users): godshipsit ; mariamaynot ; itsokaysammy ; frozen-delight


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend the following song for the end of the chapter: Cage The Elephant - Cigarette Daydreams  
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and for sticking around <3

Dean and Cas had met Sam on the road. Castiel had feared things would be awkward, but Sam greeted him with a hug. The younger Winchester had been doing some thinking, and though he still had his worries about the angel, Cas was _family_. 

It was late, too goddamn late for Dean’s taste, so they’d rented a room in a cheap motel, away from that crazy-ass town, and decided to get up early in the morning (Dean was already bitching about that the night before) to keep looking for the kids. The roads were too dark at night and they could miss dirt roads that lead to somewhere of interest. It was better to wait until morning, though everyone wondered with a heavy heart if Mary would live that long.

The older Winchester woke up early to get breakfast for everyone, while Sam had left for his usual early morning run. Dean never understood that about his brother; they already ran for their lives so goddamn often, why on Earth would Sam wake up to also run for fun? For _fun_!

“Hey, Cas, I brought you-”

Dean stopped dead in his tracks as he came into the room and nearly dropped the bag of food and coffees. Cas jumped, looking around to meet his eyes, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment. And that wasn’t all there was to say about the look of the angel.

“What the-” Dean mouth hung open as he closed the door absentmindedly, out of reflex more than anything. He blinked dumbly a couple of times, half-expecting the image in front of him to simply disappear.

Cas was sitting in Sam’s bed, shirt gone, and if that wasn’t enough to rattle Dean’s very core, a huge pair of black wings appeared behind him. They took up a considerable amount of room, though they didn’t even seem to be fully extended. They were a bright black, so intense Dean couldn’t tell some feathers apart from each other from the distance, with hues of dark blue appearing as you looked downwards towards the lower feathers.

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologised in low and timid voice, though he wasn’t sure _why_ he was apologising. “I thought I was going to be done by the time you came back, Dean.”

The man just stood there, watching his friend for a little longer, more than he normally would for sure, but he was dumbstruck. He stared at the wings shamelessly, taking in the magnificent sight of them, and he tried to deny the fact that he was also looking at the angel’s bare skin, taking a shamefully long time to admire the muscles in his chest, the form of his biceps, the sharp edges of his collarbone, the trail of hair in his belly that went downwards and disappeared behind pieces of fabric that interrupted Dean’s sinful exploration of Castiel’s body.

“W-what?” Dean babbled, lost in thought.

Castiel watched the human through eyes narrowed with curiosity. “I was… grooming,” he explained shyly. Castiel knew how much Dean despised angels, so he’d kept quiet about his supernatural habits for a long time. He always did his wings’ grooming in the mornings or at night to avoid running into either brother. Being there, shirtless, exposing his wings in a physical form, it felt very personal and intimate, very _naked_ in a human sense. _Specially_ in front of his favorite human.

Dean tried to say something but he couldn’t. He barely registered as he let the bag and coffees fall in the small round table and took a few steps towards the wings, his fingers moving unconsciously to reach them. Cas stood still, following Dean’s movements with his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he should do; Dean didn’t look disgusted or upset by the presence of his wings, but rather captivated by them instead. His lips were curving up in a small smile, eyes wide opened. Dean looked as if he was about to touch his wings, and though Castiel wasn’t sure how he felt about that, he found himself frozen in the bed.

“Wow,” Dean finally managed as the tip of his fingers trailed over Castiel’s lower wings. “Cas… They’re incredible.”

The angel smiled. “Really?”

“Yes, they’re huge. And so dark,” Dean smiled. He licked his lower lip and then bit it shamelessly for the tiniest moment, as his eyes laid on the sight before him.

“Where you expecting them to be white, Dean?” Cas asked with a gently mocking tone.

Dean chuckled with embarrassment. “Yeah, actually,” he ran a hand across the back on his neck. “So, do you need help with your- err- _grooming_ , you said?”

Castiel blushed. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” The Winchester walked around the angel, his eyes always locked in the dark wings, and stood behind Cas. “I bet the ones on the back are hard to reach, right?”

Cas nodded, mouth suddenly dry. He didn’t know how to tell Dean to stop, humans weren’t supposed to touch wings, but a part of him didn’t _want_ him to stop.

Dean positioned himself behind the angel, trailing a hand over Castiel’s bare kin where the two wings came out of his back. Cas’ back was impossibly muscular; even though Castiel never worked out, he’d never lost the fine figure Jimmy had bothered to built. The perks of being an immortal angel, Dean figured. Under his touch, Cas became breathless and froze. The warmth of Dean’s skin on his felt wonderful, and Castiel felt more exposed than ever. There was something so wrong yet so _right_ about the situation, a part of him wanted to stand up, put his wings away and take a walk to cool down, but another one, the same that Dean was acting on unconsciously, rendered him unable to move, unable to act according to his usual behaviour. He would not, _could_ not, deny Dean the permission to touch him.

The man begun working on the feathers, spotting some here and there that weren’t straight, and he gently pulled them back into a more comfortable position. The angel bit his lip, clenching his hands into fists that laid in his knees. The soft brush of Dean’s fingers touching and moving his feathers felt sinful and so goddamn pleasurable, he now understood why humans weren’t supposed to touch them. It was bewitching, for both of them; Dean worked on them, lost if thought, and Cas found himself breathing increasingly hard, though he didn’t even need to breath in the first place.

Dean noticed. “I’m sorry, Cas, am I doing it wrong?” he asked, running a hand down each wing with affection, in case he’d hurt his friend. A strangled moan escaped Cas’ mouth, causing both of them to blush hard.

 _Oh_ , Dean thought stupidly, finding himself aroused by the stupid sound.

“Dean-” Cas turned his head a little, but didn’t dare looking back at the human. Dean couldn’t help but feel a lovely, familiar warmth waking low in his groin at the sound of his name in Cas’ lips. He’d never said the man’s name like _that_. “Stop.”

It wasn’t at all what Dean wanted to hear.

“Why?” he asked before he could stop himself, the back on his hands tenderly trailing down Castiel’s wings again. It was so unlike Dean, but he could see Cas closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and he fucking _loved_ it.

“It’s wrong.”

“It doesn’t feel wrong.”

He opened his hands and dug his fingers in the low blue feathers, fisting them very slowly, tugging at them tentatively. Cas moaned against his better judgement and threw his head back, eyes shut. Dean watched the muscles in his shoulders and neck tensing, and they all but called out to him. He was in automatic mode as he leaned forward and planted a kiss in the angel’s right shoulder, then begun to lick and kiss his way towards his neck, his hands always hidden between feathers. It only took the sound of the angel’s uneven breathing to make Dean already uncomfortably hard. He bit Castiel’s neck and wondered why the fuck he’d taken so long to do this, Cas obviously had no problem with this. If anything, he seemed to be loving it, fisting the sheets and curving his neck to give the man further access. Dean tugged at the wings more eagerly, smiling when Cas moaned again, but then freed one to move his hand to-

A door closed noisily and Dean jumped in the bed, looking around the dark room with bewilderment through sleepy eyes. It was Sam that had woken him up, leaving for his _real_ morning run. The sun wasn’t even up yet.

Dean was breathing hard and thinking quickly as the memories of the fresh dream circled in his rebellious, treacherous brain. He could feel himself still hard under the covers.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice said from somewhere in the room, causing the man to jump again, “are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Y-yes!” Dean answered right away, panting hard.

“I’m sorry,” Cas lifted from his chair and walked towards the man, much to Dean’s horror. “I can help you sleep, if you want.”

The angel lifted two fingers in his direction, but Dean leaned back, away from him.

“No!” Dean yelled rather harshly before he could get a grip, sitting up and turning his back on Cas. “I’m fine. I just- I’m okay. Thanks.”

Castiel nodded and retreated back to his chair. He knew better than to try to talk to Dean when he was like that. If he’d sensed his friend was having a nightmare earlier, he would have dissolved it, but Dean didn’t like the help when he was awake, nor did he liked to talk about them.

The elder Winchester waited, but his arousal wasn’t subduing. In fact, it twitched, calling for Dean’s attention, as all the memories of the dream came into clear focus in his mind.

 _What the fuck is wrong with you_ , Dean scolded himself, cheeks burning red with embarrassment and anger at himself. He was so goddamn relieved that it was still dark in the room. What if Cas _saw_ his arousal tenting the sheets? That would be the end of his dignity. _He’s your friend, for God’s sake!_ Dean grabbed his jeans and putt them on, hoping that the combination of the lack of illumination in the room and the enclosure of the tight jeans would unable Castiel to see him like this.

“Bathroom,” Dean mumbled through gritted teeth, without really needing to; Castiel _knew_ humans went to the bathroom in the morning.

He slammed the door behind him and turned the lights on, watching himself in the mirror. He hated himself so much right now.

_Get a fucking grip!_

He let out a frustrated sigh, opened up the tap and splashed his face with cold water.

Dean palmed his erection through his jeans, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, waiting for it to go away, but, _god damn it_ , the memory of Castiel’s ragged breaths hunted him, encouraging his body to misbehave.

_Shower._

Leaving his clothes around the bathroom, he jumped into the shower, letting the cold water fall over him as he ran his fingers hands along his hair.

He wished the water was even colder, so he could further punish himself. He felt so dirty, so gross. How could his mind come up with that obscenity? Of _all_ the things he could dream of, why did it have to be some kind of freaky angel-sex thing? Why with _Castiel_ , of all people?

And the fact that it wasn’t the first time he’d had weird, sexual dreams with him made him feel worst. It wasn’t a recurring dream, necessarily, but it wasn’t the first, not even the _second_.

The cold water was working a little, but his erection prevailed.

 _We don’t think that way about Cas!,_ he internally yelled at his body as he looked down at his member.

Cas wasn’t his to think about that way. He didn’t like the angel like that, he was his family, his _brother_.

 _Not really, he isn’t,_ a disobedient side of him threw back at him.

Women, he liked _women_ , so he tried to think about that as he gripped himself with familiar fingers, water dripping through his hand as he pushed the skin back. He bit his lip and hushed a moan, concentrating in female curves with unnatural resolution.

 _Women, women, women¸_ he thought forcefully. Breasts, nice round asses with nothing but black, lace thongs, a pair of hands pulling them down for further access. He stroked himself fast, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, happy that his mind was finally in the right track, when the hands that were getting rid of the underwear gained a face, and that face was Castiel’s. His hands, curious but determined, grabbed skin and pulled the female ever closer to him, his tongue moving with expertise along her neck. A part of him wondered if his imagination made justice to Castiel, if that’s how the angel had acted when he slept with either women he’d been intimate with, and it made him feel uncomfortable, almost _jealous_.

A pang of guilt made Dean’s stomach twitch, but he was far too invested by now, and he fucking _needed_ release, he was so close. A hand came to rest against the wall as he came in his hand, eyes shut and guilt poisoning his satisfaction.

What the _fuck_ had he done!? Did he just jerked off while thinking of Castiel? _That_ was new.

He remained under the cold water for a while, stunned. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that. And it wasn’t just that, but the fact that now he was also thinking about Castiel sleeping with other women, wondering if there had been more women than the two he knew of. What if those children _really_ _were_ his? His and some other strange woman’s kids. He imagined Cas laying with her, laughing with her, loving her, whoever _she_ was. He hated how much the idea bothered him. He should be wishing Cas could find that kind of love and happiness, but instead it poisoned his heart with a warm, uncomfortable feeling. He loathed himself, and he hadn’t been awake for even half an hour yet.

Dean made his way out of the bathroom after carefully making sure he’d left no traces of his sickly demeanor in the bathtub, and avoided looking at the angel at all costs. He put on his boots, not even bothering to change shirts. Castiel followed him with his eyes, wondering what the hell Dean had dreamt of. It must have been a pretty bad nightmare to get him in such a reactionary mood.

“I’m going for food,” he said, and in fear that the angel might want to tag along, he quickly added, “I’ll be right back.”

“Sam’s already-”

“I’m hungry now,” Dean cut him, grabbed his jacket and keys of the car, not looking _anywhere_ close to his friend’s direction, and practically ran out of the room.

Cas sighed; if only Dean would just let him _help_ him. He could have kept sleeping. The man had barely slept a couple of hours. He needed to rest, if they were going to drive around all day searching for the kids.

The angel wondered if maybe Dean was also angry at him. He’d been so inclined to believe Amar when he told him the other angel said the children were Castiel’s. Perhaps Dean still didn’t trust him, and though he thought he deserved it, he strongly hoped the man would one day have faith in him and not question everything he said, everything he did.

Sitting there in the dark room by himself, Castiel felt his heart heavy with preoccupation and sadness, just like Dean as he drove away to nowhere in particular, fuelled by a strong feeling of shame and disgust.

Both men looked back at their life choices with regret, wishing they could go back and do so many things differently. They failed everyone, brought pain and disgrace upon all their loved ones. Both sunk into misery thinking one would be better off without the other, none deserved the affection they both instinctively and unquestionably gave to one another. They remained together because neither could bring themselves to stop being selfish and leave, but they both hoped their loved ones would one day move on to better things; to more _worthy_ people.

Dean gripped the steering-wheel tighter than ever, clenching his jaw tightly. He could feel his body threatening to cry but he refused to do so, causing his body to start shaking.

If only Cas left... He  _had_ to leave, had to find someone better. But where would the angel go? Dean had brought disgrace upon him, had caused the angel's family to hate him, to cast him away. He'd ruined him, he'd ruined the life of a being that was millions of years old after only a couple of months with Dean. Everything he touched, broke.

Tears clouded his vision and Dean blinked several times, causing them to roll down his cheeks. He turned in a dirt road and stopped the car. He got out and walked around it, trying to calm himself down, finally resting against the car's side. He wiped the tears away with the back of his hands and then buried them inside his pockets. He felt childish, pathetic, filthy, and whatever else that was bad.

He wished so hard he could just disappear and not be his ugly, cursed self anymore. He could wish he could just drive away from his problems, drive away from Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GIF sources (tumblr users and plain old google): bilosan ; justjensenanddean ; bringmesomepie56 ; thewinchesterdaily ; missarchiecookie ; sooper-dee-dooper-natural ; magneticcas ; mrsfitzgerald


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone all week, I had an awful, extremely busy week really.  
> Thanks for waiting, the comments and for sticking around.

_Nothing like a good old panic attack to start the day_ , Dean thought as he drove back to the motel. Specially when it's one of those you can't even understand why you're having.

Dean arrived not long after Sam had returned to the motel with breakfast. The younger Winchester noticed the tension emanating from his brother and the angel right away. Sure, they had seemed worried yesterday too, none of them was particularly cheery, but this morning Dean would not even look in the angel's direction. He wondered what had happened in his absence; trust Dean to pick up a fight in a tiny amount of time.

Sam knew better than to say something. Dean needed time to chill, whatever his problem was. So instead of trying to make some peace between the two men, he took the breakfast doughnuts out of the paper bag, handed Dean his coffee, which he accepted silently, and started peeling apples for himself.

They hadn't got around to talking last night, they'd met rather late, so now was time to catch up. Castiel put him up to date with what little they knew and what Amar had told them, including the children's prayers that had reached him now several days ago. Sam wasn’t surprised to hear the children were the nephilim, he’d strongly suspected so himself. He told them all he knew, assured the others Jody was working extra hard checking every single 911 call near the area that might have the tiniest relation to their case, and shared a detailed description of his conversation with the priest, who did not hesitate to call the creatures for what he knew they were: angels.

"That town is never going to be the same after this," he said. "They are pretty religious, they know this was of supernatural nature. They think they were being punished by God or something like that. Priest didn't know what to make of it, angels fighting each other in his church. The kids caused the earthquake, just like before; he says it was the boy, Balthazar. He said the boy held Amar up in the air just by raising his hands and was choking him to death."

"Well, yeah, he had it coming if you ask me," Dean mumbled with his mouth half full.

"He ripped Amar's grace apart," Castiel commented with his usual grave voice. "It was... gruesome."

Dean huffed a laugh but his face was dead serious. _A pool of little girl's blood is worse_ , he thought with resentment towards Castiel’s kin. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel the slightest sorry for Amar.

"We need to find them before they seriously hurt someone," Cas told Sam, ignoring Dean completely. It was either that or getting pissed, and he'd rather give the man a break after that morning's nightmare.

"Or before someone hurts them," Sam added. "Crowley says everyone's looking for them, and I doubt Rowena is planning to adopt them and keep them safe."

 _If they're even still alive_ , Sam thought, and quickly moved on from that thought, he'd rather not give in into negativity.

"I've been thinking a lot and I still can't figure out what their connection to you is, Cas," Sam spoke out loud, mostly to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a bite of his apple and looked out the window, lost in though. "It just doesn't make sense, you know?"

Cas nods in agreement and sighs. He'd been driving himself crazy for days wondering about the same thing.

"And how the hell did they manage to stay under the radar for so long?" Sam went on. "Why are we finding out about them _just now_?"

"It's like they were living under a rock and suddenly they decided to see daylight," Dean commented as he worked on his breakfast eagerly.

"Exactly, they popped out of _nowhere_ , it's almost as if they were from another- from..." Sam's face fell as he trailed off.

"Oh, my God!" He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt so suddenly and so forcefully, Dean swayed in his chair and spilled coffee all over himself and the floor.

"Dude!" Dean shot him an angry look, which Sam ignored completely, as he put down the cup of coffee in the table.

"Dean! They're from another universe!" Sam yelled as he shook Dean again.

"What?" Dean looked at his brother as if he had lost his mind, but Castiel's mouth opened a little as he sat up, thinking quickly.

"They're from another universe!" Sam repeated, waving his hands around like a madman with a wide smile, turning to Cas, who seemed to be agreeing with his opinion. "It makes sense! They know us, we don't know them. We learned about their presence all at once because _that's_ the night they came into our world. They didn't fear Amar cause whatever universe they come from, nephilim are probably not forbidden. They _are_ Cas' kids, just not _our_ Cas'! They arrived at Bobby's cause that's where they were before crossing, and they're going south, home- maybe the bunker?”

Dean had his brow furrowed as his mind tried to work as fast as Sammy's. A part of him still believed Sam had lost his mind, but another one, the one that acted on instincts, told him it made sense. At least it made more sense than anything they'd come up with until then.

"But- shouldn't there be another Cas then?"

"No," Cas answered quietly.

"I- the other me- didn't come with them. They're looking for him- well, for me, I suppose." Dean screwed up his face in confusion as Castiel talked. "They pray to their father, in reality, not me, but I'm the one who hears when they call me by my name. Prayers can't be heard across universes. That'd be really confusing."

“You think?” Dean asked ironically, rubbing his temples. He was seriously developing a headache, and it was too early for that. "But what kind of person sends their children alone to another universe?" Dean gives Cas a once over with an almost accusing look in his eyes. It's the first time he's looked at Cas all morning and by the look of it, the angel would have preferred it if Dean didn't look at him at all.

"I don't know, Dean, _I_ didn't send anyone anywhere... But if I had children, I wouldn't send them away unless they were under serious danger."

"Well, they ain't exactly having a picnic here either," Dean said under his breath.

“Maybe that’s why you can’t find them, Cas. If they were in danger, maybe your other you warded them with the same sigils you burnt on us.”

Cas tilted his head as he considered that… Yeah, that would make sense, maybe the sigils worked on nephilim too.

Dean sighed as he raised from his chair.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked him. He was still smiling, excited for finally cracking the most important piece of information of the puzzle.

“I’m going to drive around, see is I can find anything suspicious, maybe someone’s seen something. I’ll check out abandon properties, whatever. We need to find Rowena, and we need to find her _fast_. You two stay here, check traffic cameras, local newspapers, I don’t know, _anything_. Call me if you find something.”

Dean left before Castiel or Sam could say anything else, leaving both of them kind of in the edge of their seats. In reality, there was nowhere to go, no hurry to leave the motel. They didn’t know in which direction Rowena had gone, no idea what was her car’s license plate. There was no reason to believe Rowena could be in the same town they were staying, but Dean could not bare being cooped up with Cas in the same room right there and then. He needed to get out, needed to probably _drink_ , though it was seriously too early to go to a bar without admitting he could have a drinking problem, so the next best thing was to get out and drive. He’d hit the bar later.

* * *

 

Elsewhere, Balthazar was wandering around the house he was trapped in (not that he really knew that), looking for food. He’d woken up a couple of hours ago to the sound of Zeppelin gently sobbing on the floor. The boy took a look at Mary before climbing out of the bed; she looked just as pale as she did yesterday, and her chest barely rose and fell with her breathing, but she was still alive.

“Mary?” Balthazar softly whispered into her ear, but his sister didn’t open her eyes. With a sigh, the boy turned his back to her and focused on his baby brother. “Morning, Zep,” he said as he knelt on the floor and grabbed the baby by the armpits, awkwardly dragging him out of the sleeping bag. Zep’s face twisted and threatened the burst into tears; he was hungry. It was really early in the morning, but it was late for his feeding schedule. The perks of having a father that didn’t sleep had grown him used to early feeding schedules, but Castiel wasn’t there for him now.

The young Winchester knew there was no food left in the bag for the baby or himself, for that matter, so he held his brother close to his chest and tried his best to lean his grace closer to that of Zep’s. The baby latched into it instinctively and quickly fed off his brother’s grace. It felt funny, Balthazar thought, though not necessarily unpleasant, and the boy grew instantly hungry himself. He was younger than Mary and his physical needs still cut deep through him.

Carrying Zep around the house with the red wagon, he headed towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge only to find wine and some fancy-looking food he wasn’t sure what was made of. He wrinkled his nose and sighed in disappointment; no way he was eating any of that. He found a chair and dragged it until it was close enough that he could stand on it and open the kitchen cabinets, but they were all empty.

His belly growled, begging for attention. Other than that, the house was completely in silence, no one else was up yet. He wasn’t sure what to do; did witches sleep more than normal people? Whenever among humans, his family, there would always be someone waiting for him with breakfast. Waffles probably, if it was his dad; fruits if it was Sam; grace, if it was his papa.

The boy made his way back through the corridors until he found the bedrooms. He tried the first door but it was locked; Byron and Adeliza wanted no one to bother them. Rowena hadn’t taken the kids’ early schedule into consideration, and had left her door unlocked. She laid sprawled across the king-size bed with fine, silk sheets, curtesy of Byron and the luxuries that came with him, sleeping like there was not a care if the world.

Balthazar carelessly walked into the room and climbed into the bed, bouncing on the mattress playfully. Rowena barely shifted in her sleep, so the boy tapped her shoulder a few times.

“Miss?” he called a bit shily, poking her with his finger. “Miss, wake up.”

The witch slowly regained consciousness and rolled over the bed, hoping that the boy would simply disappear if she ignored him, but Balthazar was a Winchester, and Winchester can be pretty insistent.

“Miss, wake up, I’m hungry,” he insisted, climbing closer to her.

Rowena rolled over again to face him, watching the boy through narrowed, tired eyes, though she was well rested.

“Huh?”

“I’m hungry,” he repeated with a shy smile that formed a kind of question: _feed me, please?_

“You eat?” she asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Of course I eat,” he laughed at her.

“I thought angel didn’t eat.”

“I’m a half-angel,” he corrected her, “and my papa eats too anyway,” he tells her. Castiel would sometimes too succumb to Dean’s waffles. “Dad makes the best breakfasts,” he thinks longingly of Dean.

“Well, kid, I don’t do breakfasts, sorry,” she shrugged. She’d be damned if she was also required to cook and feed the kids.

“Witches don’t eat?” Baltz asked with curiosity.

It was Rowena’s turn to laugh. “Of course we do.”

“Then let’s eat!”

The redhead sighed as Balthazar smiled at her. He wasn’t giving up, was he? She’d wished to lay in bed for a couple more hours, enjoy the luxury of her room in peace, but the other two witches didn’t seem to be willing to help much with the kids. And it’d take a couple of days to get Mary better for the spell, so Rowena would have to try her best to keep Balthazar happy and clueless until then. Maybe if she got the kid in her side, he’d help her get rid of the other two…

“Alright, then, let’s eat. Go wait for me in your room.”

The witch changed and called Byron’s chauffeur to pick them up. She took the baby in her arms, stopping Baltz from carrying him around in the wagon, and guided the boy into the car, then ordered the chauffeur to take them to a fancy restaurant. In the closest city, they stopped at a 5 stars hotel with a well-known restaurant and Rowena sat with the two little Winchesters for lunch, glowing with joy at all the attention and comfort she was receiving. It was such a shame she’d have to get rid of Byron.

Baby Zep sat in his baby chair, watching his two companions as he cooed softly from time to time and smiled when anyone’s eyes fell on him. His older brother sat on his knees in the fancy booth. Soon a waiter came to take care of them. Rowena asked for all sorts of things, and when she asked the boy what he wanted and got a simple ‘waffles’ back, she rolled her eyes, but she couldn't say no to him.

"Some waffles, please," she ordered for the boy.

It didn’t take long for him to come back with their order and Baltz smiled from ear to ear when a generous pile of waffles was laid in front of him.

“Thank you!” he smiled at Rowena and the waiter.

“You’re welcome dear,” Rowena folded a napkin on her lap as the waiter left and eyed the boy with curiosity. “So, tell me, darling, where were you and your brothers going?”

“Home,” he simply answered. The witch watched the boy grabbed a waffle with his bare hands and decided not to even try to get him to use a fork for it.

“Where’s home?” she insisted with curiosity, testing the boy.

“Well, we were living with my grandpa for a while,” he chatted absentmindedly as he ate, “but our house is in Lawrence. Papa says Heaven’s our home too, but- I don’t think angels here like us.”

Balthazar thought of Amar and the image of the angel stabbing his sister came to mind. Something inside him twisted in fear and anger, and around them the lights flickered. The witch looked around the room, and then back at the boy.

“It’s alright, dear, you don’t have to worry about them now,” she gave him a warm, fake smile, then pinched the bridge of her nose as she though. “What do you mean… angel don’t like you, _here_?” she said as she remembered again the words the boy had used the night before: _Mary says they’re in another story_. What had _that_ meant? The word had been going in circles in her mind all night.

“In my story, they are nice. They call me little commander,” the blue-eyed boy smiled with pride. He liked the nickname, liked to think one day he’d be their leader, while it made Dean cringed every time he heard an angel call his little boy that. He’d told Cas to tell his brethren to stop referring their children like that, to no use really. Heaven was smitten by the nephilim. Not in this world, though.

“But what do you mean, another story?”

Balthazar shifted in his seat. He wasn’t sure how to explain it because a part of him didn’t really understand it himself. “Mary said…” he looked around, trying to remember _what_ Mary had in fact said. “She said, hmm… She said we’re in another planet. She said… It looks the same but- but different things happen. Like, my grandpa’s house burnt down,” he gave her a look like it was the worst piece of information possible. He had been wondering where the hell his grandfather lived if not at his old house.

Rowena’s face lit up as understanding struck her. “You’re from another universe,” she whispered softly, almost to herself.

The boy smiled, “yes! That’s the word Mary used.”

Rowena couldn’t help but chuckle a little hysterically; of all the weird things she’d heard and seen, this had to be at the top.

“But then… Your parents sent you here all alone?” she said as she remembered the boy telling her his parents weren’t in the same story.

Baltz nodded, suddenly a little sad. “Mary says they’re busy fighting someone bad. She said- she said dad said we would be safe here.”

The old witch sat back, contemplating the boy’s words; an angel, backed up with Heaven and all, had to send their children away into hiding? Who the hell were they fighting that was _that_ bad? She could only think of a couple of supernatural creatures that would cause an angel to take such drastic measures, and she didn’t like the options very much. If the kids came through some kind of portal to this universe, so could another big bad.

“Well, you’re safe here with me now, aren’t you, love?” she smiled and winked at him.

Baltz nodded and smiled back, all innocence and kindness. “My dad was wrong about witches,” he said, leaning over the table to get closer to Rowena. “You’re not evil. When I rule, I won’t let you go to Hell, I promise.”

Rowena smiled, flattered and glad to have the boy so easily and quickly on his side.

The boy took her hand as he continued to eat waffles and she was startled to feel the boy’s nuclear power brushing against her skin. It was a warm, tingling sensation. It felt like raw grace and soul reaching for her dark ghost of a soul, bringing light with him and all that was good and pure. She was stunned by the feeling, taken aback when she found herself looking down at the boy wanting to reciprocate the affection. It was like taking several shots of tequila at the same time, being automatically drunk with the feeling of power and compassion at the same time.

 _No_ , she all but screamed in her mind. _You can’t love him. You can’t keep him._

She cleared her throat and discreetly pulled her hand away, breathing heavily as the feeling went away, though Balthazar’s kind smile didn’t falter. It was almost as strong as a love spell. There was something about him, with his electric blue eyes and innocent tilt of his head, that just made you want to protect him. It was dangerous, a trap for sure, an evolutionary mechanism to get other species to submit to him. It had to be that, no one could be that good, the witch was _sure_.

* * *

It was late enough that Dean could finally go to a bar without feeling Sam would give him a talk about alcoholism. The town was small and it didn’t take long for Castiel to find the man. He knew Dean very well, he knew he’d find the Winchester enjoying whiskey or beer in some dark room.

Dean couldn’t say he was pleased to be found, but he didn’t tell the angel to go away. It wasn’t fair for him to mistreat his friend, he knew that, it wasn’t Cas’ fault he’d had that weird-ass dream. And the whole nephilim situation was certainly not his fault either, but he couldn’t help but be upset nonetheless. After all, his fears that the angel might run off and have a life of his off, love someone else, fuck someone else, grow old with someone else, weren’t so crazy after all. He hated that he cared so much.

“Dean,” his name left the angel’s lips for the millionth time as he sat in a stool next to him, leaning over the counter and drawing his hands together.

Dean looked at him over the corner of his eyes. “Hey, Cas.”

The man lifted his hand with a simple movement that told the barman to bring him another shot, then placed it in front of the angel.

“No, thank you,” Cas mumbled. He enjoyed the occasional bear, but whiskey was still not something he enjoyed too much.

“Your loss,” Dean mumbled, then threw his head back as he took all the liquid in one go, screwing up his face as it burned down his throat.

“You’ve been gone all day… Did you find anything useful?”

“Would have called you if I had,” Dean answered, still not really looking at him. “How about you? Dead end too?”

“Yes,” Cas lamented. “There are no signs of them.”

Dean didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think _at all_.

“So, how does it feel, Cas?” the man asked before he could stop himself. Cas looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, head tilted like he always did when he didn’t understand something. Dean loved that- and hated it at the same time. “Having kids, I mean. Proud father of three little nephilim.”

The angel’s jaw clenched. “You know they’re not really mine.”

“Could be, apparently. If you wanted it.”

Castiel looked down and Dean followed his every movement with his eyes.

So, the angel wasn’t saying he _didn’t_ want it.

“I wonder who’s the mother,” Dean went on, causing Castiel to look up. The angel didn’t know what to say, didn’t really understand Dean’s feelings or the way the conversation was going.

“I don’t know,” Castiel simply said. “We’ll find out when we find them.”

“ _If_ we find them.”

“We’ll find them,” Cas pressed on.

“Mama bear mode on,” Dean huffed a laugh. “Suits you,” he spoke darkly.

“Dean-” Castiel sighed. What the hell were they even arguing about?

The man turned around to pay attention at an attractive woman that had approached the bar. She gave him a once-over, smiled to herself and then pretended to look away carelessly, but Dean – and Cas- had perfectly noted that look in her eyes when she saw Dean staring back at her. Castiel looked back and forth between the two of them; he knew exactly what that exchange of looks meant.

“If you excuse me,” Dean told him, trying to fake a smug smile, “I’ve matters to attend you.”

Cas wanted to stop him. This was so typical of Dean, falling into that endless cycle of booze and women to try to drown what he couldn’t talk about. He’d got better at it, spoke more about what troubled him, told Cas to stay with him a few times. And he was usually very good at helping other with their own troubles, but the man just could not handle his own shit sometimes, could not see he deserved better.

The angel wasn’t in the mood to stay and watch Dean and another of his many conquests. Lately, he had to admit to himself, he had become less and less patient when it came to watching Dean pay his attention to underserving people; more and more jealous.

He left the bar without another word to Dean, not watching when the man turned around to see him leave. Dean needed this, needed to be with a _woman_ to try and get passed what had happened that morning. Cas walked back to the motel, hands on his pockets, head down. He should be more careful now that angel was on his tail, but for just a moment he didn’t care.

He too wondered who he had had children with. Another woman… He couldn’t picture himself with another woman. He’d always been sure that, if he ever tried to live a ‘normal’ life on Earth, it would be alongside Dean. The man would never want him the way he wished Dean did, but maybe they could live in the bunker together as friends. Castiel was willing to watch Dean grow old, even watch him form a family of his own and look after them for all of eternity, but never had he imagined he’d formed a family of his own without him.

 _Mary_ , he though. That was Dean’s mother’s name. Why would he name his child after Dean’s mom? _Unless he’s their father too_. Castiel shook his head, angry at himself for letting that thought even come to his mind. Daydreaming like that was dangerous. Some things just weren’t supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: inacatastrophicmind ; kingofthecrxssroads ; jensenskisses ; deanjackles ; sensitivehandsomeactionman ; hunterchesters ; subcas ; crowleysmuffins  
> And as a side note, if anyone's struggling with panic attacks, anxiety, depression and/or stress, know you're not alone and if you ever need a random person to just talk to, my door's always opened.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming super close to a reunion now (; dun dun dunnnn

Four days had passed and Balthazar followed Rowena like a baby duck that had imprinted in the worst kind of predator, always accompanied by little Zeppelin.

The witches had noticed the boy’s protectiveness of the baby and started to grow worried; he was just 5, but he was powerful, more powerful than the 3 of them combined, and there would come a time when they’d need him to let go of the baby to perform the spell on him but Baltz didn’t seem to be letting his brother out of his sight for a single minute. Wherever Baltz went, Zep did too, and that usually meant they were around Rowena. Byron and Adeliza try to stay clear from the children, both because they hate children, and secondly because they didn’t want to accidentally piss the boy off. Rowena seemed to be doing a good job, so why not let her keep caring after the boys on her own, right?

Balthazar made a habit of waking up, checking if Mary was awake, feeding Zep with his grace and then he’d head to Rowena’s room to wake her up. The witch was hating the early morning schedule and sometimes they just laid in bed talking for a while before they left for breakfast. Trying to buy as much time in bed as possible, the witch would let the boy ramble on about things he knew about the universe that his papa had taught him, or lament about how he was too young to go to playgrounds or school, other times he’d complain about missing bedtime stories, a clear attempt of making Rowena feel guilty enough to start reading him stories, but she wouldn’t. They’d go for breakfast at some fancy place, or the fanciest they could find, always gladly exploiting the perks for Byron’s family money, then come back to wherever they were staying.

During the day, they travelled. They put as much kilometers as possible between whoever was looking for the children, because everyone was still looking for the children, and themselves. Sometimes they stayed in fancy hotels, sometimes they’d stay in rented, expensive houses. Balthazar behaved for the most part, not really feeling comfortable enough around the other two witches to be his usual playful self, although he was starting to get really bored.

“Where are we going anyway?” he’d asked Rowena one day.

“We’re just moving around until your sister wakes up, for safety,” she explained.

“And then?”

 _And then we suck the life out of you,_ she thought, but instead said, “we’ll find somewhere nice to keep you safe, somewhere your sister likes too, sounds good?”

Baltz nodded, not suspecting a thing. He trusted her.

And the thing was, Rowena was starting to grow fond of the boy too. It didn’t help they were cooped up in the same car most of the day and had fun, rather enjoyable talks in their private breakfast sessions. There was something intoxicating about the boy, something that made her naturally drawn to him. Even if she prevented the boy from holding hands with her, the effect his grace and soul had left on her the first time was still drastic. It was as if a drop of water had splashed on a dirt-stained surface and had given away a little of its original white and clean state. She wasn’t good, was never gonna be good again, and like he’d said, she’d go to Hell if ever she died, but the light he’d shined on her dirty soul almost made her remember was it was like to not be evil, at least. He smiled at her, a wide and honest grin, loving and absolutely charming, and Rowena wanted to smile back at him the same way.

Everyone was on edge, waiting for Mary to wake up, for a bunch of whole different reasons; Rowena wanted to be rid of the boy as soon as possible as she felt feelings for him growing in her, though she would never admit it to herself; Byron and Adeliza wanted to get this over with and go back to England with their new-found powers, and Balthazar, always sweet and pure, just wanted his sister to be alright.

It wasn’t until that evening, a little after they had settled in a hotel, that Mary had been able to open her eyes. Baltz didn’t see her, but felt a shift in her grace as consciousness came back to her and she tried to look around the room in search of her brothers. Her eyes weren’t fully opened and she was dizzy and very confused, barely awake really. Balthazar, who had been played in the floor with Zep, rushed to her sister’s side. Rowena, who was reading in a corner, stood up and got closer to her bed too, keeping a careful distance.

“Mary!” the boy reached for her hand, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re awake!”

The elder Winchester tried to speak but couldn’t form words. She was tired, _drained_ , and was coming in and out of consciousness.

“Mary? Are you alright?” Baltz shook her arm.

Mary couldn’t answer him.

“I don’t think she’s quite alright, yet, dear. Let get rest,” Rowena spoke, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

The girl locked eyes with Rowena for just a moment and a very primitive side of her, the one that was angelic and mighty beyond reason, kicked in; that was a witch next to her brother, a kind that made _dark_ magic. Physically she couldn’t do more than to close her hands into fists, but her grace swayed and pushed Rowena back several feet away, landing harshly on the floor. Mary grunted in pain, exhausted by the small effort she’d just made while her grace was still recovering, and her eyes closed again.  

Balthazar jumped back, torn between being worried for Mary or Rowena. He looked down at Mary, realising with a heavy heart that his sister was unconscious again, so he’d figured he’d help Rowena instead. He rushed to her, kneeling down as the witch sat up, looking stunned.

“Are you alright? I think you scared her.”

“ _I_ scared her?” she repeated.

“Well, she doesn’t know you like I do,” Baltz said kindly. “Dark souls can be pretty scary.”

Rowena snorts. _Her_ _soul_ is scary to an almost-god?

“You’re lucky she’s weak, she could have ripped your soul apart,” Baltz commented as Rowena screwed up her face in concern as she stood up and sat in the couch, rubbing her sore ribs. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you next time.”

The witch sighed as she looked down into those deep, blue eyes. She hated how easy to love Balthazar was. No wonder the angels in the other universe called him their leader, anyone good would want to follow his lead.

The boy moved back to his sister’s side. He looked down at her soul; it seemed fine, but her grace was still weak and pierced. Her wing had stopped healing to favor the rip Amar had caused. Balthazar felt extra guilty about that now. He grabbed her hand once again and closed his eyes. He tried very hard to let go of his grace and wrap it around hers, trying to feed her too, but it was hard since she wasn’t trying to hold onto it like Zep did so easily. He nudged at her grace, trying to call its attention, but even it seemed to be somehow asleep. Baltz shook with effort as he tried to help the hole in her heal, and finally, Mary’s grace recognised him and held him back, feeding off of him so quickly and thoughtfully, Balthazar gasped in surprise and let go, passing out on the spot.

“ _Manete_!” the witch yelled, causing the boy to freeze mid-air before he could collapse on the ground. She rushed to him, taking him in her arms and looking down at his sweet face. How the hell was she going to kill the boy if she kept growing fond of him?

The door opened and Byron came in.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did he attack you?”

“No… But the girl did.”

“Is she awake?”

“Not now.”

Byron looked down at the unconscious boy and sighed. “Maybe we just should just kill them now, while they’re both unconscious. It’d be easier to steal their powers now.”

He took a step towards the boy and Rowena rose with the child in her arms, taking a step back.

“No,” she said, way too defensively. Byron eyed her with curiosity. Was she _defending_ him? “Now yet. Not while they’re weak,” she went on quickly. “They need to be in their full potential.”

“But how are we going to do it then? The boy never lets the baby out of his sight, and I doubt the girl will be easy to fool. She’s _already_ attacked you.”

“Balthazar will stop her.”

Byron snorted. “You think he’ll turn against his own sister for you? He’s stupid, but not _that_ stupid.”

 _He’s not stupid, he’s innocent_ , she defended him internally. “He trusts me. He will do as I tell him,” Rowena assured him, but Byron didn’t seem too convinced. “Fine,” she shrugged, acting careless. “If you two want to keep the weakest nephilim, go ahead. But I keep the baby; he’s the strongest one.”

The witch put on a smug smile as she leaned the boy in her arms closer to Byron. The man shifted as he considered his options; no, he didn’t want Rowena to walk out of their deal stronger than them.

“We’ll wait,” Byron said. “But you’d better be careful, Rowena. Don’t get attached to the boy. Sooner or later, we _will_ kill them.”

Balthazar didn’t wake up until much later that day, and Rowena made sure he ate properly before he succumbed to exhaustion again. The witch went as far as to spend the night in their room, despite knowing deep inside of her she was going down a dangerous path. She knew she was in trouble when Balthazar woke up feeling perfectly fine the next day, though a little tired, and she felt glad to see the boy up and about again. Byron was right, she had grown attached to the boy to the point where it was almost impossible to deny it to herself.

The witch found herself brainstorming on her own, trying to come up with a plan b, but she couldn’t fool herself, there was no way she could keep Balthazar to herself. The boy would never let anything happen to his siblings, and Rowena couldn’t afford to take on the role of surrogate mother for all three children. She was too selfish to do that, she didn’t care about the other too, not really.

Mary woke up again the following evening, and this time she could focus. She rolled to her side, looking for her brothers, and there they were her little two brothers, playing innocently on the floor again. Rowena was watching them again from her place in the couch. Mary clenched her jaw and tried very hard to gather the strength to incapacitate her, when Balthazar stood between both of them.

“You’re up again!” he smiled broadly and ran to the bed. Rowena stood still, watching the children carefully. She didn’t want to scare Mary again. Baltz saw the way Mary’s grace was preparing to attack, and he did his best to lift his wings as a barrier between the two females. “No, Mary, it’s okay, she’s my friend!”

“Balthazar, she’s a witch,” Mary spoke not without effort.

“I know, but she isn’t bad. I promise. She’s helped you.”

“Baltz,” Mary closed her eyes, fighting to stay awake. “Take Zep. Leave.”

“Mary, trust me, we’re fine. You can feed from me if you want, you need to heal.”

Mary opened her eyes and touched her brother’s cheek gently, then glared at Rowena. She wanted to feed on his grace, she needed it to heal faster, but feared leaving her brother defenseless and weak.

The intensity of her stare almost made Rowena shiver. If it wasn’t for Balthazar, she knew she’d probably be in trouble.

“If you hurt him,” Mary spoke between breaths, but it didn’t make the threat in her voice any less scary, “I will end you.”

Rowena couldn’t think of anything to answer as Mary fed off of Baltz, her eyes never leaving Rowena. Balthazar’s knees became weak again and he whimpered softly as he passed out again. Mary hugged her brother before he fell to the floor and Rowena slowly came closer and helped Mary lift the child into the bed.

Mary put an arm around her brother protectively and threw a glance in Zep’s direction; he looked fine, content, and even gave her a toothless smile as he (barely) lifted himself up with chubby arms.

“I don’t know what you plan to do with us,” Mary said, “but there’s three of us and one of you. We will smite you.”

“Dear, there’s three of my kind too,” Rowena spoke with confidence but careful not to sound smug. “And you… You’re very weak. I don’t think you have the advantage here. But fear not, you’re not in danger.”

“I don’t believe you. Balthazar’s young, he’s naïve… I know better than to trust a witch. My parents- they’ll come for you.”

“From another universe?” Mary’s fell face; how did she know that? What the hell had Balthazar told her while she was unconscious, and how many days had passed anyway? “That’s right, I figured that out. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, dear? You’ve an army of angels, demons, human hunters and all kinds of creatures looking for you. Trust me, you want to hang with me for a while.”

“And you should trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to hurt us,” Mary glared at her through narrowed eyes. She remembered Amar now, clearly could replay the angel stabbing her, and it made no sense. Why were angels against them? Why was everyone looking for them? She was afraid, but she couldn’t show that in front of the witch, she had to be strong. She had to make Rowena afraid too. “You need us, just as much as I need you right now.”

“And why’s that, dear?”

“Because Lucifer’s coming for us, and when he does, he’ll destroy everything,” Mary told her, twisting the truth. Well, in reality, Lucifer _could_ come for them, if her parents failed to stop him…. “We’re the only ones that can stop it, so if you kill us, you’re as good as dead.”

Rowena’s face fell, giving away her concern. She’s thought about Lucifer as an option of the big bad that dragged the children away from the world, and she didn’t like it one bit.

 _Well done_ , Mary told herself.

“He’s coming for him?” Rowena repeated softly, looking down at Balthazar. Mary followed her eyes, confused; she looked _genuinely_ worried. Could she _really_ care for him? That was impossible.

“Yes. That’s why my parents sent us away. He wants to kill my family.”

“Does he know that?”

Mary looked down at Baltz as he slept. “No, he doesn’t. My parents-” Mary swallowed hard. “If they haven’t come for us yet- they’re probably dead. I’m the last line of defense.”

The girl fought the tears that came to her eyes with all her might. It was an awful thought that she’d been fighting for a while, but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Her parents… They’d never leave them alone for this long, wouldn’t abandon them in another universe unless they couldn’t come back for them. They would have at least checked on them once, right? But they hadn’t, and she was deadly afraid that they were dead.

“I can’t protect you from Lucifer,” Rowena spoke, but she was trying to convince herself of that more than she was talking to Mary. All the more reason not to love Balthazar; the boy had an expiration date on his head if the devil himself was coming for him.

“I know. But if you let me go… Just let us go. That’s all I ask of you.”

They stared at each other for a while, until Rowena nodded. She couldn’t have Balthazar, but she couldn’t kill him either. Mary was offering her a third choice, one that didn’t please her, but wouldn’t rip what was left of her heart either.

“The two witches… They- we- we were going to steal your graces and souls.”

Mary pulled Balthazar even closer. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m a survivor. I don’t want Lucifer to kill us all, and I can’t fight the devil alone.”

The young nephilim wasn’t convinced. “You’re lying… You… _care_ about him, don’t you?”

The witch hesitated. “I- I can’t do that to him,” Rowena sighed, stroking the boy’s cheek. Mary watched the tender movement with confusion. “But I can’t keep him either, can I?”

Mary shook her head. No, no way she was letting a dark witch keep her brother. Rowena clenched her jaw as she fought tears of her own.

“Come on. Byron and Adeliza are in bed already. If you leave now, they won’t know until morning. I’ll deal with them then.”

The girl climbed out of bed, wincing a little in pain, and went to her baby brother as Rowena drew the little red wagon closer. It had all their stuff already there, including cookies Rowena kept for Balthazar in their bag; Baltz liked to be ready and packed, in case Mary woke up. Rowena took Baltz in her arms and softly laid him in the wagon as comfortably as she could. Mary placed Zep on her brother’s lap; with any luck, the baby would go to sleep soon too.

"Wait here until I call you," Rowena ordered Mary and left the room.

The girl waited in the room as she changed clothes, putting on her coat, and only a few seconds after that, she heard screams coming from the house. It shook her very core as cries of pain ran through the house but she was pretty much powerless and didn't know what else to do but to wait. Somewhere from the house, Rowena called her and she came out of the room, leaned over the stair rails to see the witch waiting in the receiving hall, looking grim. Mary tried not to think about what the witch had just done.

"Let's go," the redhead ordered.

Keeping quiet, they left the mansion and Rowena walked with them for a while, in silence. Mary eyed her with suspicion, not entirely trusting her, not understanding the bond Balthazar had formed with the witch.

Finally, after an hour or so, Rowena stopped.

“Well, then,” she said, taking in a deep breath, trying hard to pretend she didn’t care as much as she did as Mary kept walking away with the two boys in the wagon. “Good luck.”

Mary looked back at her for a moment. Maybe Balthazar wasn’t so wrong about her, or maybe he was kind enough to bring out the best in even the worst of people.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Mary asked her.

“No, dear. There’s no place for me in a family. Will you tell him that-” Rowena stopped mid-sentence, not really knowing what she wanted Mary to tell Balthazar. That she was sorry she wasn’t going with them? That she was sorry she couldn’t be better for him? That she loved him?

“Yes?”

“Just- tell him I hope he rules someday, my little commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (turmblr users): shirtlesssammy ; woollycas ; codestielckles ; spookyboysam ; spnfeelstrain ; charlie-bradcherry


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drags herself back home after the last midterm*  
> I SURVIVED. I'm back. Sorry for the low rate of posts these past few days.  
> Also, loads of gifs in this chapter.  
> Thanks for sticking around!

After so much effort, Mary had finally taken her brothers back home to good old Lawrence. It was early in the afternoon when the children reached their neighbourhood. Balthazar was glowing as he looked around, pointing at houses and shops that he could recognize.

"We're almost there," Mary told him, not without a smile of her own painted across her face. If anyone was going to help them, it'd be this universe's version of their parents. She kept thinking how weird it'd be to meet herself, but then she had always kind of wanted a sister, it'd be the closest she'd get to having one, after her cousin of course.

Finally, the three little Winchesters reached their porch. Balthazar ran up the stairs and knocked on the door with a little too much eagerness, causing the wood door to shake violently.

"Easy, Baltz!" Mary laughed, pulling the boy away from the door.

The kids waited for a moment, their hearts pounding against their chest with excitement. Balthazar was swaying in the tip of his toes. Zep could not possible understand what the fuzz was about, but he watched his siblings' graces fluttering with enthusiasm and he couldn't help but shriek happily.

Then the door opened and Balthazar nearly crashed head first into the old lady at the door as he intended to rush into the house and into one of his fathers' arms. Mary caught the boy by the back of his jacket's neck and pulled him backwards.

"Who are you?" Mary asked, rather rudely, before the old woman reacted at all.

"I'm- who are you, dear?" the sweet lady asked, looking down at the children with bewilderment. "Are you alone?” she looked around the street in search of their parents. “Are you selling cookies?"

"What? N-no."

"We live here!" Balthazar told the woman, looking at her with accusation. How dare she deny them access to their house?

Mary checked the house's number as if she didn't know every brick of the building by heart. She wasn't wrong, this was their home. Only, apparently it _wasn't_. It was this woman’s house.

"You have the wrong house, love. Would you like to come in? Can I call your parents?"

"No," Mary pulled Balthazar closer. "It's okay, sorry… Wrong house."

Balthazar snapped his head to the side to look at Mary as if she was insane. Meanwhile, the old woman stared after them with confusion and a bit of worry, especially when she laid eyes on the little baby boy, but Mary was already walking away, dragging her brothers along. Balthazar followed her but not without complaining.

"Where are we going now!?" he demanded to know. "What's that old lady doing in our house?"

"It's her house, Baltz. We don't live here in this uni- story," Mary explained as she tried to keep a straight face. Never in her life had she felt more disappointed. All those days of travelling, of being hungry, exhausted, in danger, all to bring her brothers to the _wrong_ place.

 "But- I like our house! Does that mean all my toys are gone?" the boy asked in sudden realisation and Mary couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his childish priorities.

"Maybe, I don't know. Maybe we live at the bunker."

"The bunker?" Baltz repeated. He'd been there a couple of times but he wasn't exactly fond on the place. His parents would never let him explore any of the rooms, it got rather boring down there sometimes. "But that's _far_ ," he huffed, sinking into despair again. "I don't wanna travel anymore, Mary."

Mary put an arm around him as she dragged the wagon with her free hand.  
"I know, me neither... But the bunker... I'm sure they'll be there. They have to. We lived there when you were a baby, but you can't remember."

Mary put her wings around Balthazar and pulled their graces together into an embrace. Brother and sister walked in silence, both too stubborn to break down in tears in public, though they felt equally as sad.

* * *

Jody had worked with Carl and a sketch artist to come up with a picture of the children. She'd spread it among police-stations in the nearby states, called in a few favours to have their pictures spread around towns, and waited. Days had gone by, no news, until one day, she finally received a call; a waiter thought he'd served a boy that looked very similar to the one in the picture, accompanied by a woman with red hair and foreign accent. Jody didn't need telling twice, she called the Winchesters right away. Team Free Will packed their stuff so fast, Sam and Dean actually bumped into each other a couple of times. Surely the kids weren't there anymore, if Rowena was smart (and they knew she was) she wouldn't spend more than a day in the same place, but at least now they could track the credit card she’d used.

After that, it wasn't hard to find Rowena. Especially because she wasn't trying to hide anymore and she’d left a trail of dead bodies behind her.

Dean barged into Rowena's room first, gun raised, blood boiling with rage through his veins. The kids weren't with her anymore and he feared the worst.

"Where are the kids!?" he growled.

Rowena sat calmly in a corner with a cup of tea in her hands. "Gone," she simply said.

"What did you do with them?" Castiel asked through gritted teeth, raising his angel blade threateningly as he marched towards her. Rowena didn't so much as flinch.

"I let them go."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"Kissed them goodbye too?" Dean asked mockingly, not believing the witch at all.

"No," Rowena turned slowly. "But I made sure those English witches wouldn't go looking for them."

"Why? Why would you let them go?" Sam asked the witch.

The witch puts the cup of tea down and turns slowly to face them. "Because," she said as she did an unexpected, quick moment of hands and the three men flew across the room, "if I can't have them, _no one_ can. I knew you'd come after me. I won't let you hurt him."

Rowena closed her hands into fists and Sam and Dean begun to choke, and though Cas also felt the pressure in his body, he had the advantage of not really needing to breath.

"Stop!" Cas yelled as he turned to watch his friends choking in pain. "I don't want to hurt them! They're mine, they're my children!"

"What?"

The witch observed the angel, staring into those blue eyes of his, and it hit her: those eyes, those are the same shiny color of the sky Balthazar had. There had been something oddly familiar about the boy and now Rowena finally knew what it was; yes, he looked like a tiny version of _Castiel_.  
Rowena opened her hands as her mouth slowly opened in astonishment, and lowered her arms. Sam and Dean coughed for air on the floor, and Cas stood up, coming closer to her with an almost begging look about him.

"I am their father. Well, not me, really. You see, they're from-"

"Another universe," she finished for him.

"Yes. I need to find them and take them back. They're not safe here."

"No, you can't take them back."

"Why not?"

"Lucifer was set free in their universe. He's on to them. If you send them back, they're as good as dead."

The three men looked at each other with clear alarm in their faces. The name of the devil was never something they were excited to hear.

"But what do _you_ care?" Dean asked as he lifted himself and Sam up, rubbing his neck.

"Because you grew fond of the boy, didn't you?" another familiar voice called. Everyone turned to see Crowley in a corner, leaning casually against the wall like he'd been there with them all along.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Dean growled and sighed, annoyed by his presence.

"I followed you, of course," the king of hell shrugged casually. "You boys have a history of messing up. Couldn't let you fuck this one up, with three little gods running around free."

Dean rolled his eyes all the way back to his skull, and Crowley simply ignored him, then he turned to his mother. "You said you wouldn't let them hurt _him_ , not _them_. What is the matter, was little angel boy irresistible? I gotta admit, imagining a tiny version of Cas really would warm my heart, if I had one. Who's the mother, _that_ really intrigues me. Or second dad," he winks at Dean, who blushes furiously, causing the demon to chuckle. "Hey, I don't judge."

"Shut up, Crowley, this is serious," Sam said in irritation and Dean was goddamn glad to be freed of the demon's smug stare.

"Oh, so am I. Kid's smarter than we thought if he tricked her into letting them go," he glanced in Rowena's direction with anything but affection, "with _feelings_ ," he hissed the last word, as if nothing could annoy him more than that.

Rowena clenched her jaw, fighting her own self against what she felt for the boy. "He didn't _trick_ me," the witch blurted out uncontrollably in defence of Balthazar. "He- he's _special_. He's unbelievably kind and he's- he's not like us, he believes in things."

The men looked at each other, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

"He's going to rule Heaven one day, or so he says," she continued, "and he wants to close Hell. As in, _permanently_."

Crowley's face goes blank for a moment and Cas tilts his head in confusion.

"Not so cocky now, right, Fergus? He'll put you out of business. He doesn't want anyone else to go to Hell."

"But- that can't be done, that's impossible. Dark souls go to hell, that's the way it is," Cas says.

"Why?" the witch questions him, shrugging. "Says who?"

"Says _God_."

"Well, he isn't around, is he? He left his grandchildren to rule, so maybe he doesn't mind it."

Crowley snorts, looking down at his mother with malice. "You think he can save you? After everything you've done, you think he will grant you a spot in Heaven?"

Rowena swallows hard. Yes, that's exactly what a part of her had been hoping for, secretly, and that was exactly why she'd let the boy go. It was a dangerous daydream, something she couldn't afford to wish for. The best she could do was let the boy go unharmed.

"No, I don't. Especially if Lucifer is coming for them."

"Yeah, about that; what was that about Lucifer again?" Dean asked, shifting in place as he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling that awful feeling climbing up his gut again at the mention of the sadistic archangel.

"The girl said that's why they left their home. She said they're the only ones that can stop him."

"You talked to her, then? She's alive?" the corners of Castiel's lips curve up in a hopeful smile.

"Yes. If you ask me, I don't think angel blades can kill them. Sure did a whole lot of damage, she looked pretty dead... But she wasn't."

Castiel and Dean looked at each other and exchanged smiles. It's the first time in a couple of long days that both men feel they're finally catching their breath, and the first time they look at one another again with the affection that normally and naturally runs between them. Dean melts into his eyes and he can't even remember why he'd been so upset with the angel.

"She's alive," Castiel repeated, only for the two of them, as they smiled, feeling a terrible heavy weight lifting from his shoulders.

"You'd better find them soon, though. She's quite weak. He said they were going home… To Lawrence.”

“ _To Lawrence_?” Sam and Dean repeated at the same time, turning to look at each other.

“That's what she said,” Rowena shrugged, oblivious to what's so interesting about that place.

“Isn't that where _you're_ from, Dean?” Crowley asked with an edge of mock in his tone, wearing a cocky smile to irritate Dean even further. “How peculiar, is it not? Castiel’s raising his children in _your_ hometown and he named his eldest after _your_ mother. Bromance, much?”

Sam watched as Dean turned red as a tomato at the implication in the demon’s words, and though he was frowning and shaking his head, he couldn't help but think Crowley was certainly on to something. He couldn't deny the same theory had occurred to him too, but he'd laughed it off. Now, he wasn't laughing so much anymore. Rowena looked back and forwards between Castiel and Dean, only then noticing that Balthazar had never _once_ mentioned his mother. Could it be...? Zeppelin’s eyes _were_ in fact a very similar shade of _Dean’s_ green. But she wasn't interested in torturing Dean, unlike Crowley. If she'd known they wanted to protect them and not hurt them, she might have surrendered the children to the Winchesters. She'd been so spooked by the feelings Balthazar had so quickly and easily harvested in her, that she’d pushed the boy away fast and recklessly. Mary had done a great job convincing her to let them go as well.

“Can we focus, please? You're not helping, Crowley,” Sam rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't in the same line of thoughts as him, for Dean’s sake. If it _was_ true, Sam knew his brother well to know this would shake him up quite a bit and he wanted to spare his brother of being under the spotlight right now. “We need to go. Now,” Sam ordered. “Are you coming or not?”

Rowena nodded and hurried to gather her things, but Crowley disappeared.

“Ah, _great_ , always good to count on you!” Dean yelled into thin air, rolling his eyes, then left the house to sit on the car in peace for a couple of minutes.

Castiel helped Rowena put her things in her bag and then curiously stared at her for longer than it could be considered polite.

“What?” she asked, looking down at herself trying to figure out what was out of place.

“Your… soul. There's a… _tiny_ … light,” Cas said, leaning ever closer to the witch, who finally had enough of Castiel’s lack of personal-space consideration and placed her hands on his shoulders to stop his advances. “That wasn't there before.”

“So _rude_ ,” Rowena said, though her cheeks burned a little red. A light? In _her_ soul?

Castiel looked up to the witch's eyes and Rowena felt as if he was looking all through her, examining her very core.

“You're being extra weird, and that's saying something,” she said under her breath.

“You really _do_ have feelings for the boy, don't you?” Cas asked, and though Rowena didn't answer, the reluctant expression in her face was enough for the angel. He simply smiled at her, with an innocent kind of kindness and curiosity that Balthazar wore constantly in his face. His boy had touched the witch's very soul somehow, and had shed some light on it. No other angel had achieved to do that before. Angels had never bothered trying to fix broken souls, yet the child had done it so naturally, without even trying. “What's he like?” Cas asked in a low voice, his tone full of wonder.

The witch hesitated, suddenly very aware of Sam’s presence too. The Winchester watched her with curiosity too. For some reason she was glad Dean wasn't there. He was usually the most judgemental of them all. And she understood, she was a dark witch, he had every right to judge her, but she felt strangely embarrassed as she unwillingly admitted her affection for the boy.

“He's… he's everything that's good and it's-,” Rowena looked for the right words for a moment. She remembered how Balthazar’s presence had made her feel calmed and accepted, she remembered his promises of peace on Earth, Hell and Heaven. She couldn't help but smile a little as she thought of him.

“It's a little overwhelming, really," she sighed. "It's intoxicating, you never want him to go away. You want to love him and protect him, and you know he feels the same way...” she trailed off as she blushed, feeling stupidly embarrassed as she spoke.

Sam found it in himself to smile at the unusual tenderness with which Rowena spoke of the little boy, as Castiel considered how great his son was. How had he ever managed, in any universe, to create something so good and pure? Maybe his sins, his large pile of mistakes, could be forgiven is he had it in himself to bring such a precious creature into the world.

“Then why did you send him away?” Sam asked.

The witched swallowed hard. “Because love makes you weak… And I never want to make that mistake again.”

Castiel shook his head as he grabbed her suitcase. “You're wrong,” he said. “It makes you stronger. He didn't even have to fight you to win.”

* * *

 

Mary and her brothers stood in front of another familiar house late that night. It was Jessie’s house, Mary’s best friend. The girl led her brothers around the house to hide in the bushes of the boy’s garden and peeked through Jessie’s bedroom window. The light was on but he wasn't around, which made the girl think he was coming back at any moment.

“Alright,” Mary’s heart beat fast with anticipation, “you stay here and I'll go in. Maybe- maybe he knows something about where we live, okay?”

“Why can't I come in too? I wanna go with you.”

“No, you stay here. I don't want to overwhelm him. I'll be right back, Baltz, I promise. Just- let me talk to Jessie, okay? Look after Zep. I won't be long.”

Balthazar pouted but sat on the grass without saying anything further. Mary gave his little brother a thankful smile, then turned to the window again. With a simple movement of her hand, the window’s lock moved and she opened it, standing in the tip of her feet and kicking against the wall to crawl in.

She looked around the room and sighed with relief when she saw her friend’s room looked just as she remembered it. Jessie lived here, he'd return any moment now. She sat on the bed and waited.

Just a couple of minutes later, Jessie barged into the room without a care. The door blocked his view of Mary, and as soon as he closed it and saw the girl, he jumped back and gasped. Mary smiled, her heart warming with the sight of the boy. Oh, how she loved him.

Jessie was an outcast, a bit of an awkward boy, pale and shy, with a father who had a terrible temper only his wife could keep in line. He didn't get along too well with the rest of the kids at school, unlike Mary, but she liked him the most out of them all nonetheless. He had a gentle, quiet soul that called out to her, and he understood her better than anyone else; though Mary seemed to fit well with the children in her class, she knew just how different she was even if they didn't, and what it was like to be peculiar and have an unconventional family other parents gossiped about. Jessie was forever grateful for Mary's friendship and didn't mind at all that she had two dads, no matter what Jessie’s dad said about them; they were kind to him, just as she was, and the two of them treasured each other.

“What- who are you? What are you doing in my room?” the boy asked as he overcame his initial surprise-driven fear.

Mary's face fell. “Jessie, it's me, Mary. Mary Singer. I'm- we're friends.”

“I don't know you,” Jessie said as he backed towards the door. “What are you doing in my room?”

“What do you mean you don't know me? You're my best friend!”

The young Winchester felt tears coming to her eyes. No, of all things, not _this_ , she didn't want to lose him too. Why didn't he know her? Did they not live here? Did she not go to school? Did they not exist _at all_? What if her parents didn't exist either!?

“I don't know you!” Jessie insisted, reaching blindly for the door handle behind him as he walked backwards. He wasn't really afraid of her, but he was freaked out by the situation. Who was this crazy girl that broke in through the window? “Mum! Dad!”

The boy bolted on her and ran out the room. Mary froze. She felt devastated that he not only didn’t recognise her, but ran away from her. And at the same time, she didn't like Jessie’s dad; he had an inflexible, less shiny soul, which she normally she put up with for her friend’s sake, but this boy didn’t know her. Her mind was yelling at her to react, to turn around and leave, but another part of her wondered _where to_. Where else could she go? She wasn't sure she had it in her to walk all the way back to the bunker from Lawrence. And what if she did and there was no one there either? She'd had enough of this stupid universe.

But her brothers needed her. Her parents had trusted her to keep them safe.

With tears rolling down her eyes, Mary leaped out of the window and landed hard on her knees on the grass. Balthazar jumped up.

“Does your friend know where daddy is?” he asked eagerly.

“He doesn't know me!” Mary cried between sobs as she hurried to pull the wagon away and into the street again. Balthazar frowned in confusion and ran after her.

“Does that mean they're not here?”

“I don't-”

“Hey!”

The growl made the two kids jump and turn; Jessie’s dad was sprinting towards them. He looked livid.

“You think you can just break into my house and leave, you punks?”

“Mary-” Balthazar leaped behind his sister, afraid.

Mary didn't know how to react and the man was in their faces before she had a chance to make a decision. Jessie watched from the entrance of his house and he looked suddenly mortified to have thrown Mary under the bus. The man grabbed Mary by the arm and started dragging her back to the house.

“I'm going to call the police, young lady, and they will take care of you!”

“Mary! No! Stop!” Balthazar reached for her hand and pulled in the other way.

The girl's heart was racing. “Let me go!” She pulled back and was strong enough to actually stop him. He looked down at her with surprise.

“Jessie! Jessie, call the police!”

“Let her go!” Balthazar cried, panicked.

Jessie didn't move a muscle, he was frozen as he watched the events unfolding before him.

“Jessie, do as I say or I swear to God-!”

“LET HER GO!” Balthazar shouted to the stop of his lungs and the man was thrown several feet away across the street.

“Dad!” the boy hurried toward his father, missing the car that was driving down the street.

“Jessie, no!”

Mary raised her hand in his direction and her grace moved out of instinct, pushing the car away from the boy, forcing it to crash against a tree. Immediately after, the girl curled over herself, grabbing her stomach in pain as the stab of her grace convulsed in pain at the usage of so much grace, and she fainted.

The loud noise of the car crashing made curious neighbours pop their heads from inside their houses while others called the police or an ambulance.

Her brother stood there watching Mary in complete panic for a moment. He looked at his sister, at Jessie, at the car, at the man that still laid in the pavement, hurt but alive. Zep begun to cry. Balthazar turned around to glance at him, his hands shacking. He had to do something. He had to disappear, _now_ , fly away, but he froze. He was overwhelmed, a confused little angel in a world that was too big for the small child that lived in his soul.

“Mary,” he whimpered as he knelt by her side. “Mary, wake up.” He shrugged her but she didn’t wake up.

A woman got out of the car and stumbled out. Blood was running down her face, but she seemed, all in all, fine.

“Oh my god! Are you guys okay?” she asked as she approached the children. “Sweetheart, where are your parents?” she asked as she looked back and forward between him and the baby in the wagon.

“I don’t know,” he sobbed. The floor begun to shake as it always did when Baltz reached this level of distress.

The woman looked around, confused; this town wasn’t a place of seismic activity.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t be scared, it’ll pass,” she said as she put her arms around him. Balthazar let her, he needed the comfort, and as they waited, he found it in himself to calm down enough to stop the earthquake.

The police and an ambulance arrived in no time, followed by a nice woman from Child Protective Services. Balthazar wanted to go with Mary on the ambulance, but the paramedics wouldn’t allow him on the vehicle while they tended to his sister.

“She’s not sick, she needs to rest!” he tried to tell them as he watched her grace circle on in itself around the hole that was still healing. She needed time, that was all. But they didn’t listen, of course.

The woman from CPS had a very reassuring, shiny soul and managed to persuade the boy to let the paramedics take Mary after she’d promised he’d go to the hospital too, to see his sister.

“She needs care, sweetheart. She’ll be better at the hospital. You and I can go take care of your brother, okay? How about that? How about you and I have some dinner first, huh?”

The boy felt defeated as he held on to his brother like their lives depended on it. He didn’t know how to make all the humans go away, he didn’t know how to make himself and his siblings invisible so that everyone would just _stop_ bothering them, and now it was too late to just fly away, there were too many humans around and he wasn’t supposed to _show_ people what he was. Not that he would have got very far anyway, he was such a failure at flying. The boy was sinking down into desperation.

The woman tried to take Zep into her arms, but Balthazar didn’t let her, pushing her away unconsciously with his grace. The woman felt a strange force pulling from her and tried to calm herself as she looked down at the boy and though she was going crazy when it occurred to her that _the boy_ was doing that somehow. In the end, she let him carry the baby in his arms, however uncomfortable that looked. Balthazar put the backpack his father had given him over his shoulders; it was the last thing that tied him to his family, he wasn’t going to just leave it there, then he carried Zep into the woman’s car. The ambulance went one way, and the car in another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr): frozen-delight ; codestielckles ; lunarsaturn88 ; disneyandthefamilybusiness ; super666natural ; fuckyeahsupernaturall ; crowleycanyounot ; shakespearelove ; waywardwitches ; supernaturalfreewill ; stlestilnski ; hallowedbecastiel ; songofthecagedmoose


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this one.  
> Thank you for reading, the comments and would love to hear some feedback if you have any more to make (; Critiques are also welcome!

“What’s your name, dear?” Mrs. Anderson asked Balthazar.

“Balthazar. Balthazar Win-” ‘ _we’re not supposed to say we’re Winchesters, remember? You can’t forget that’,_ Mary had told him, “Singer.”

“Sorry, dear, was that _Winsinger_?”

“No. Singer. Just Singer.”

“Alright,” the woman gave him an encouraging smile and continued writing in the notebook that laid in front of her.

Baltz observed her as he ate. She’d brought him sandwiches and water, which he was very grateful for, and had convinced the boy to let Zep rest in a baby car seat after Balthazar himself had insisted in giving his little brother the baby bottle she’d prepared. It would be the only thing the boy would agree to; he didn’t want his brother out of his sight, would not for anything in the world allow Mrs. Anderson to put him in a crib in another room while they spoke, and, truth be told, the poor social worker didn’t dare push the boy into something he didn’t want to do. There was this strange air about him, this power emanating from him she couldn’t comprehend, and peculiar things seemed to happen whenever she tried to separate the brothers.

“So, tell me, dear, where are your parents?”

“I don’t know. We’ve been looking for them.”

“You and your sister?”

“Yes. Where’s my sister? You said you’d take me to her.”

The lights flickered as Baltz frowned. Mrs. Anderson looked up for a moment, a shiver running down her spine as the boy’s grace swayed with concern, accidentally but softly brushing against her soul. He hadn’t seen his sister in a while now. The boy was afraid she’d wake up all alone and worry about them. He’d tried to stick together, but human adults just wouldn’t _listen_.

“I’ll take you to see her tomorrow, if that’s alright with you, Balthazar,” she told the boy.

“No, I want to see her _now_ ,” the boy pressed on.

“Dear, look at your brother,” the woman pleaded with the boy, always keeping her tone steady and calm. She gestured at the sleeping baby, and Balthazar sighed as he regarded his brother. He was fast asleep, his soul and grace swayed softly in control in unison with his soft breathing. “He needs to rest, and so do you. I promise you tomorrow first thing in the morning, I’m taking you to the hospital to see your sister.”

Balthazar shifted in his seat. He didn’t want to cave in, didn’t want to leave Mary alone through the night. Exhausted as she was, her sister was unprotected while her grace struggled to heal, and he felt unsafe too without her. After all, Mary had said the police weren’t their friends. No one was their friend in this universe, apparently. The boy kept looking around at everyone he saw, half expecting other kinds of creatures to walk into the room at any moment. What if other unfriendly angels found them? He felt terribly _exposed._ And he was powerful, he knew that, but he just couldn’t _control_ his abilities. Damn, he’d caused _three_ earthquakes in less than a month, that was a bloody record. He couldn’t help but feel like such a failed angel, he needed Mary to show him the way…

But he was tired. He felt oh _so_ human. The sum of physical exaltation and emotional distress had taken a toll on him. Balthazar was only just a little boy, like Dean always tried to make the angels understand. He watched his brother sleeping peacefully and longed to do the same. He wondered if he’d be able to sleep though, in a strange room, surrounded by strange people, with all these preoccupations running around in his young mind. He could avoid sleeping if he used his grace to keep himself awake, but that would only sum to his exhaustion, sooner or later. Maybe he could rest a couple of hours, and then go to see his sister… And Mrs. Anderson was right, Zep _did_ need to sleep or he got extremely cranky, and the last thing Baltz needed was to cause his brother to blow something up by accident.

“Now, honey, why don’t you tell me your parents’ names and I can try to find them while you sleep?”

The boy looked up from his brother and sighed. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Mary says I’m not supposed to.”

 The woman frowned. “Why can’t you tell me, dear?”

Balthazar sighed, running a hand across his cheek as he yawned. “It’s a long story,” was all he said. Mrs. Anderson took a deep breath and considered insisting, but the boy before her looked so tired, she couldn’t help but pitying him. She could continue with her questions the next morning.

“Alright, dear. How about you lay down now, huh?” Mrs. Anderson smiled at Baltz as she stood up. She leaned over to grab the baby car seat and almost cringed as Balthazar suddenly sat up and stared at her with more attention. “It’s okay, Balthazar, I’m just going to take you to your room. Okay?”

The boy jumped from the chair to the floor and walked very closely to Zep. “Alright… But he sleeps with me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a _fact_ , a demand, and Mrs. Anderson allowed the boy to make that decision. It wasn’t unusual in her line of work to see siblings being overly protective of each other; sometimes, each other was _all_ they had. And this seemed to be one of those cases. After all, who the hell lets their children travel around alone like that? And with a _baby_? What kind of scumbags were the Singers?

Mrs. Anderson led Balthazar into an empty room in the foster home they were keeping him in for the night. If they couldn’t find his parents (and she doubted they would, at least so fast), the boy would probably end up going back to the house after visiting his sister. The boy took off the backpack he carefully guarded as his current caretaker very gently laid Zeppelin in the bed. Mrs. Anderson considered taking a glimpse at what was inside the bag as Balthazar laid next to his brother, acting himself as a barrier between the wall and the bed so little Zep wouldn’t accidently roll off during the night. She’d figured she’d do it tomorrow, and pulled the covers over them and smiled at the boy with sweetness.

“You can talk to me, Balthazar, I want you to know that, okay? I’m here to help you.”

The boy watched the young woman’s soul twist with distress, pity and guilt. He could see she meant well, she was a very nice person that hurt at the sight of injustice and children in trouble, and he sighed, feeling guilty himself for being so hard on her all night long. He remembered Dean telling him not to peek into people’s souls, that it was unpolite to read their private feelings, but the boy found it helped him understand humans.

“I know. You’re good,” he said as he reached to touch her hand. The same warmth that Rowena had once felt spread through her. She gasped a little, then chuckled softly in surprise.

_What the hell-_

She looked down at the boy, who was glaring up at her with calmed eyes. What _was_ he? Was she going _insane_?

The woman stumbled to her feet, still laughing under her breath since that was all the reaction she could come up with. What was she supposed to do, _ask_ a boy if he was some kind of supernatural creature? She was probably tired, overworked as usual, she was imagining things…

“G-good night,” she stammered as she reached for the door.

“Good night.”

Balthazar closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep didn’t come easy to him.

He wished Rowena was there. He could count on her to protect him and his brother while his sister was unconscious. Why they’d left her, he didn’t know. Mary had said they needed to go on searching for their parents and the boy just could not understand why the witch couldn’t come along. She had promised to help them look, after all. But Mary hadn’t given him a clear explanation, and the boy simply secretly hoped she’d show up soon.

Mary woke up a couple of hours later. It was still dark outside, and the hospital was awfully quiet in the dead of night. She felt terribly disorientated and confused. As she looked around the small room she was in, she realised she was in a hospital and her brothers were nowhere to be seen. The memories of what had happened earlier that day dawn on her and she ran a hand through her blond hair with agitation. There were things attached to her arm and she begun to panic as she pushed a needle out of her hand.

“Ouch!” she put a hand over the other and squeezed where it hurt, then jumped out of the bed. Her clothes had been removed and she was wearing a hospital gown, with only her underwear underneath. Luckily, she spotted them carefully folded under her nightstand and begun to change quickly. Her hands shook and her breathing picked up as she scanned the entire building, trying to feel her siblings’ presence.

 _Balthazar!_ she shouted through a prayer. No matter where each of them were, as long as they were in the same universe, they’d always be able to hear and localize each other. Balthazar would sometimes pray to Mary while she was at school and he was bored back at home, which the girl found incredibly annoying and distracting at times. _Balthazar, where are you!?_

The boy woke up with start and sat up.

“Mary?” he looked around the dark room.

_Balthazar, thank grandpa! Where are you? Are you alright?_

_I’m in… some house… We’re fine. Are you okay?_

A million thoughts raced through her mind. Balthazar couldn’t have run away from the humans after she’d passed out, there were too many of them around. If her brothers were safe, they probably were with humans. Police or something like that had to be keeping them somewhere. They weren’t _that_ far away, for what she felt. But if police had them, her brothers were exposed. They were supposed to keep out of sight. If they ran into the wrong kind of creatures…

Mary rushed to the door and peek through it; there were nearly no nurses in the corridors. Two of them were talking to each other, their backs to her. If she ran and kept quiet, maybe she could make it to the stairs without being caught. She could always try to become invisible, but what is she passed out again? She couldn’t afford to do that, she had to find her brothers as soon as possible.

 _I’m okay, just tired. Listen to me_ very _carefully, alright? I need you to walk towards me._

_What do you mean?_

_Walk towards my grace. You can feel it. Come on, I know you cheat when we play hide and seek._

“No, I don’t!” he blushed as he frowned.

_Yes, you do!_

_No-_

_It doesn’t matter! Just do it. We’ll meet half-way. Take Zep,_ now _, and follow my grace._

“But it’s dark,” Baltz said out-loud as he looked out the window. He wasn’t super eager to go wandering in the night by himself.

Mary sighed.

 _I know, I know, but it has to be_ now _, I’m sorry, I’ve-_

Mary’s face fell as she saw two demons walk around the corner of the corridor and she jumped back in complete panic. Even from the distance, her brother felt the panic through their connection.

_What is it?_

She wanted to say nothing, but the strong connection between them betrayed her; when they opened that link between their graces, it was like sharing brains, some thoughts or feelings just flowed without permission if they didn’t control it properly. Balthazar could feel her fear.

_Mary?_

_I have to go. Find me, brother._

_Mary? Mary! MARY!_

Balthazar waited but Mary didn’t replay, so he jumped out of the bed and fastened his shoes on, then clumsily took Zep in his arms. The baby twisted in his arms and whimpered in disagreement. How _dare_ someone wake him up like that so early? Soon, he begun to cry and, to his horror, Balthazar heard footsteps coming towards him from the hallway.

Mrs. Anderson came into the room, looking tired as fuck, eyes narrowed as she struggled with exhaustion.

“Balthazar? What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go, my sister needs me!”

“Dear, it’s the middle of the night, you’re not going anywhere right now.”

Balthazar huffed impatiently. “I’m sorry. You’re really nice, but I have to go.” The boy turned around, looked out the window and focused on the tree in the garden. He blinked and suddenly the woman found herself all alone in the room. She jumped back and screamed, while Balthazar appeared outside. He didn’t even have time to realise he wasn’t vomiting, the boy hurried away as fast as he could, using his sister’s grace as a lighthouse that showed him the right away through the confusing, scary night.

Mary backed away from the door and ran her fingers through her hair. Demons. She had never seen a demon but she knew very well what they were and that humans couldn’t see their real faces. They looked so scary and plain _wrong_. And they were there for _her_ , she just knew it. They had drawn too much attention to themselves, and all because she’d wanted to see Jessie. What a _fool_ she’d been. For the tiniest fraction of time, she was suddenly glad her brothers weren’t there with her; the further away from danger they were, the better, but what if demons were after them too?

The child turned to the only possible exit; the window. She pulled the window up and sat in the edge, her heart raising as she looked down; she was only on the third floor, but damn, with her debilitated grace she didn’t feel as brave as she usually was. Her grace was too weak and her wing wasn’t completely cured, but there just wasn’t other way. It was either jumping out the window or facing the demons, and though she knew angels could defeat demons simply by touching them, it really wasn’t in her to-do-list right there and then.

She took a deep breath and focused over and over again in the memory of Castiel’s voice. _Concentrate. You’re the most powerful being in the world, after my father. There’s nothing you can’t do, Mary._

 _There’s nothing I can’t do. Nothing I wouldn’t do, for my brothers,_ she thought. If demons where in the hospital, maybe they were after Balthazar and Zeppelin too. She couldn’t leave Baltz to fend for himself.

Mary jumped and opened her wings as wide as possible, wincing at the movement of her injured wing, but landed pretty smoothly anyways. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the child begun run. Her body had other ideas and soon the stab in her stomach begun to ache, forcing Mary to stop to catch her breath and cry out in pain as she leaned against a tree. From the distance, she saw the demons looking out the window she’d just jumped from, and then disappear. She took a deep breath, hugging her ribs, and then continued running.

Balthazar flew a couple of meters at the time and jogged in between. Sooner than later, he became tired and ended up simply walking as fast as he could. His belly twisted painfully but he managed to keep his dinner inside. He felt proud that he’d finally manage to fly without vomiting all over himself, but couldn’t dwell in those happy feelings as he hurried towards his sister.

 _Mary, where are you?_ he asked as he kept going. Zep fidgeted and cried in his arms. His grace was slowly beginning to lose control. The boy stopped for a couple of minutes to put his wings around his brother in an attempt to restrain it in place. “It’s okay, Zep, we’re close. Can you feel her too?”

 _Balthazar, keep going! You’re close._ Mary commanded him with urgency. The girl ran through the streets as fast as she could, a hand always pressing against the stab in her stomach as if somehow that could contain the pain.

Her brother sighed and focused to be able to fly a couple of meters at the time again. He was thankful for the deserted streets and decided to ignore the scary corners here and there on the alleys as best he could. Mary’s heart pounded against her chest as her lungs burned, begging to take a break. She stopped a few moments at the time, always concealing herself in some dark corner. As she took a deep breath, at the distance she caught sight again of a demon, a different one. She gasped and retreated further into the alley she was hiding in. Tears came to her eyes and she struggled with all her might to keep calm.

_Mary, what’s wrong!?_

Mary shook her eyes and closed her eyes, trying hard to close the bond with his brother. Last thing she needed was to scare him.

_Balthazar… Do you see anywhere you can hide in?_

The little Winchester looked around himself. Around him were some houses, small apartment buildings, closed stores, alleys…

 _Yes_ , he told his sister when he spotted what looked like a building in construction. _Why?_

_Brother, hide._

_No, I want to be with you!_

_I’ll come get you, I’m close, I swear. But I need you to hide, Balthazar._

The boy sighed and complied. He closed his eyes, focused, and when he opened them again, he was inside the building. It was dark and frankly terrifying, and he sunk to the floor against a wall as he looked around. They were alone, he could feel it, but he felt no better about it. Zep kept crying and Balthazar held him close to his chest.

“I know, I’m scared too,” he mumbled as he felt tears of his own come to his eyes. He wanted the night to be over. He took out the Walkman from inside the backpack and put on the headphones over his ears. He closed his eyes and hummed along the familiar songs in a desperate attempt to pretend he wasn’t there, he wasn’t frightened, they weren’t in trouble.

Mary closed his eyes and focused. She was cold, tired, sored, but she had to keep going. They were _so_ close, she could feel her siblings’ graces just a couple of streets away. She chose to take the longer way, through alleys. She saw a couple of people sleeping here and there, and tried her best to keep quiet and not wake them. When she crossed the streets, she ran as fast she could.

Finally, she could feel her brothers almost next to her. She looked around the street, trying to decide her next step. Baltz could have broken into any building he wanted to, but as she looked up and down the street, she saw two men walking towards her from two streets away. Her heart sunk as their eyes met; _demons_.

The girl turned on her heels and went in the only building she could break into; a building under construction. Mary ran inside the building, up the stairs and through corridors. Someone from within empty room and half-finished walls, she could hear a baby cry.

_Balthazar?_

Balthazar got to his feet as the presence of her sister’s grace became more intense; she was there. She was finally there.

“Mary!”

_KEEP QUIET._

_Why? What’s going on?_

Balthazar hugged his brother tightly in fear as Mary’s head popped from behind a door. She was panting hard and hurried to her brothers. Zep kicked and threw his arms into the air from Baltz’s arms. He was not having a good night. Mary looked down at him in desperation. She could feel the demon’s downstairs, and feared his baby brother was giving away their location too easily. Balthazar frowned as he felt the demons’ weird energies approach him. It felt awful.

“I’m sorry Zep,” Mary mumbled and touched her brother’s cheek. She fed off his grace quickly and thoroughly, and the baby went suddenly quiet and stilled. Mary felt his grace running through her like electricity. It was intense and she closed her eyes and hunched forward, feeling a strange pain as the wild grace ran around hers and merged with her core.

“No! We’re not supposed to!” Balthazar told her, pushing his baby brother away from her. Their papa had always told them to leave Zep’s grace alone; it was too raw, unstable, hard to control.

“Balthazar, listen to me!” Mary shook her brother by the shoulders. “Demons are here. I need you to take Zep and protect him. I’ll fight them. Hide!”

Mary was on her feet before the boy could react. He hesitated as he watched her sister running away, frozen with fear, but something in the back of his mind told him he had to step up. He couldn’t just freeze again, he needed to help her. Securing the baby in his arms, Balthazar run up the precarious stairs and tried to hide as well as he could. He laid Zep behind some construction materials, where the baby would be harder to find, and Baltz prepared for the worst; if a demon came their way, he’d have to defend his brother.

The eldest Winchester felt her brother’s grace pumping through her. She wasn’t tired anymore, and though she was still terrified, she stood her ground as she waited for the demons to come up. She wasn’t even trying to hide when the first one came into her sight, followed closely by other two. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. The girl tried not to give away how repulsive his true face was as the demon smirked.

“Darling, we know you’re out of grace. We can do this the easy or the hard way,” he said as he walked towards her with a cocky attitude.

“I prefer the hard way,” Mary said, celestial blinding light emerging from within her, casting shadows around the empty rooms. She was all powered up as she run towards them, taking advantage of their temporal blindness. She acted out of instinct when she places a hand over the demon’s stomach. Her grace latched on to the darkness of his being and burned light through it, causing the demon to scream and _literally_ burn. The two others attacked her and pinned her to the ground, but Mary easily pushed them away and launched herself on top of one of them, placing a hand in their forehead and burning them too, sending them back to Hell.

She stood up and turned to face the remaining demon, but she watched it be stabbed from behind instead. Four angels stood behind the now dead body.

This time, Mary didn’t feel so confident. The angels wore unforgiving looks of disgust as they looked at her, blades in their hands. She took a step back, raising her arms slowly in a way that showed them she wasn’t going to attack.

“Brothers, please,” she said, her voice shacking. Angels were more powerful than demons, they’d be harder to fight, and even after what had happened with Amar, she had a special place in her heart for her celestial family. She didn’t _want_ to fight them. “I don’t want to hurt you. Why are you doing this?”

“You’re an abomination,” the woman that leaded the group said through gritted teeth. “You must be destroyed. Get the other two, they’re around here somewhere.”

Two of them nodded, and walked away.

“No!” Mary ran towards them, but the remaining two got in her way. They raised their blades and took a swing at her, which Mary barely dodged. She rolled on the floor and had to lift a hand up and push one of them away with her grace as the male leaped towards her.  The strong blow of her grace against his ripped the angel’s own. The angel flew across the room and landed on the floor, where he remained immobile. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

The woman took another swing at her and she stopped her arm, twisting it in painful ways, breaking it. The woman cried out in pain and dropped the blade. Mary took it and with a touch, it disintegrated.

“Please, you must listen to me! I’m not a threat to you!” she tried to reason with her brethren.

But the angel smacked her hard across the face, causing Mary to fall on the floor. The angel restrained Mary with her grace as she pined her to the ground again, a hand on her neck. She squeezed her neck with all her might as Mary looked up at her as she choked. She tried to push the angel away, but she was too weak, too tired, too unwilling to kill her own family.

Upstairs, Balthazar felt her sister’s grace twisting in need of help. He leaped out of his hiding place and wondered what to do, when he came face to face with others angels. He realised his intentions right away as they strolled towards him with mean looks about them. He was frozen in fear as they approached him. They lifted their blades and just as they lowered them quickly, when they were only an inch away from them, the boy flew away. He appeared behind them, panting hard in fear, eyes opened wildly. These weren’t demons, but they were just as _deadly_. Were angels evil in this universe?

“S-stop,” he cried. “We’re _family_!”

The angels turned around and took another swing at the boy, which Balthazar avoided again. He didn’t land too smoothly this time. He was too afraid to concentrate, and fell hard on his knees just meters away from them. The angels sprung towards him. Balthazar leaped backwards, his grace swaying wildly out of fear, pushing one away before he could ever touch him with his grace, but accident more than anything. He watched in horror as his grace once again ripped through an angel’s, saw the painful tears destroying the powerful celestial being from within.  The angel convulsed in pain on the ground and the other one, the one that had dodged Baltz’ unintended attack, caught him by the neck and pushed him towards a wall as he raised the hand that held the blade. The boy simply looked at him, completely petrified, as the hand lowered towards him almost in stop motion. He had to fight back, but he didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

* * *

Dean had been driving as fast he could.

The children were _finally_ within their reach, they were _so_ close. Jody had called them and told them everything they needed to know. The children had been found by the police and while Mary was in a hospital, Balthazar and Zeppelin were being kept in a foster home. They’d decided to get the boys first, then Mary, but by the time they’d arrived to the foster home, a very freaked out Mrs. Anderson had called the police and told them Balthazar had ran away.

“What do you mean he run away? When?” Dean asked, half angry at the woman, half panicking. That’s just about their bloody luck.

“He just- he- he was there a moment ago- and then- then he wasn´t!” Mrs. Anderson spoke incoherently. The woman was a bag of nerves. “He was in the room in one moment and the next moment, in the garden!” She ran her fingers through her hair, looking around the room with eyes wide opened.

“He flew away,” Castiel said, grabbing the man by the jacket and pushing him right back into the night. “We need to get out there and look for them!”

The four of them ran back to the car and the eldest Winchester begun to drive around again like crazy. He didn’t give a shit if he got pulled over by the police, if he woke the neighbours, if he crashed his goddamn Baby, but he _wasn’t_ going to let the kids slip from under his nose like that again.

“Dean, there!” Castiel suddenly yelled from the backseat, as he saw angels breaking into a building a couple of streets away to their right. Their graces shone clearly in the night.

Dean hit the breaks so hard he crashed head first into the windshield, as almost did Sam, but he ignore the pain completely. He drove in reverse and turned right, then drove furiously until Castiel told him to stop.

The angel didn’t wait for the car to be completely still to leap out of it and run inside the building, closely followed by the rest of the party. They could hear people fighting and struggling upstairs.

Dean and Sam went one way, while Rowena followed Castiel further into the building.

“Please, you must listen to me! I’m not a threat to you!” Dean could hear a girl beg from somewhere close. His heart sunk; it had to be her, it had to be Mary. If something happened to her-

Guns in their hands, Sam and Dean advanced. Dean ran furiously through the empty building, until, finally, he found the angel on top of the girl, chocking her.

“Hey, bitch!” he growled furiously. The angel looked up in surprise and the next moment, a bullet impacted against her chest. The angel felt to the side and Dean ran to the little girl. He knelt before the beautiful creature and scanned her; dark bruises appeared around her neck and she seemed barely conscious. “Mary? Mary! No, please-” the man took her in her arms, cupping her cheek. He could remember Rowena telling them she wasn’t sure they could die, but the look of defeat in Mary’s face, her pale complexion, it was terrifying.

Her eyes focused on him, for the tiniest fraction of a second. “Dad,” she breathed out, with a weak smile in her lips. She tried oh so hard to reach up to him, but her grace and soul finally gave in, and once again, Mary fell into unconsciousness.  

Just as the other angel’s blade was about to pierce Balthazar’s stomach, Rowena screamed, “manete!”

The angel froze in place and a moment later, Castiel stabbed him in the back with his own blade. Dead angel and nephilim fell to the floor. Castiel had a tiny second to watch the other angel that was dying on the floor, the ripped grace convulsing in on itself; that was a terribly injure beyond repair, something he had never witnessed before, worse than Amar’s. He felt disgusted by what he was seeing. It shook his very core, until a sad, cracked voice from below him cried softly, “ _papa?_ ”

Castiel looked down to see what could only be his son, those eyes were almost a perfect reflection of his own’s. His son, the one that had caused that dreadful death... The boy looked up at him, looked at the blade his father was still wielding, and there were tears in his eyes, he was still completely terrified. Of _him_. Castiel watched the little one’s mix of grace and soul and it was the single most perfect soul he’d ever seen. It was breath-taking, it was everything Rowena had promised it would be and more, because she couldn’t see the beauty of the light within him.

The angel dropped his blade.

No, there could be nothing wrong about this boy; he wasn’t an abomination, he wasn’t _evil_ and he didn’t want to kill, he’d been _forced_ to. And he'd almost let an angel stab him because he _refused_ to do it again. He was just a scared, little boy. _His_ boy.

“Son...” he spoke softly as he knelt slowly in front of Balthazar.

“Papa!” Balthazar broke into tears as his father finally seemed to recognise him. He jumped into his arms, throwing his arms around Cas' neck and burying his face in the angel’s neck. Castiel could see the pain twisting his soul and it made his heart _break_. He held him back tightly and rubbed his back tenderly.

“It’s okay, son, I’ve got you now,” he whispered as he held his child in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (turmblr users): soluscheese ; shirtlesssammy ; angvlicmish ; subcas ; lucifer-in-leather ; magneticcas  
> I wanted some Impala gifs <3 gotta love Baby


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I'm trying to update as soon as possible, wrote parts of this in the bus in my way to uni lol  
> Midterms are over but now assignments are kicking my ass!  
> Thank for all the messages & kudos & just simply sticking around!  
> Thanks for putting up with my english too, I try to improve and add more vocabulary.  
> Hope you like this one.  
> Cheers

Castiel pulled Balthazar softly away and took the boy’s face in his hands. He looked at him as he examined his face. They are so alike, it’s a little strange to admit how beautiful and perfect he is; he really does seem like a kid version of himself. Even then, with cheeks and eyes red from crying, face a little dirty with sweat and dirt, he had to be the most precious creature in the world. Not to mention his soul was the brightest he'd ever seen, and not just because it came accompanied by a grace of its own. There was a certain beauty to the devastating power within him; it should be frightening to be in the presence of an almost god in the shape of a boy, but all he saw in him was the ability and desire to make the world a better place. Where he should be terrifying and intimidating, Balthazar was a beacon of hope and kindness. The angel watched with amazement the nephilim’s grace and soul dance around each other; they almost seemed separate entities, but what happens to one had an effect in the other and both reflected the same emotions and movements. It was the single most peculiar thing the angel had ever witnessed in his millions of years of existence.

“Are you alright, Balthazar?” he asked in a gentle tone he hadn't used in a while and the boy nodded. Some tears still run down his cheeks but he was calming down, and he reached to put his arms around his father’s neck again. Cas felt the child’s grace reaching for his, mimicking the display of physical affection, and he welcomed it, pulling it closer.

“Cas…” Rowena called softly. He turned to see the witch holding a baby in his arms.

“Is he alright?” the angel asked as he stood up, the boy secured in his arms.

“Can’t wake him up,” Rowena confessed with preoccupation. The baby was completely still, more than he should be. It didn't look natural.

“Cas!” Dean yelled as he barged into the room, with Mary in his arms, followed by Sam, before the angel had a chance to take a closer look at the baby. “I need your help! Something's wrong with her, you need to cure her!”

“Dad?” Baltz lifted his head to look around the room at the sound of the familiar voice.

Dean stopped when he realised the boy was looking at _him_. Balthazar couldn’t understand the confused look in his father’s face, why he looked so flustered. It was as if Dean was looking at him for the first time in his life (and though he was, Baltz didn't know that or couldn't comprehend it), as if he was surprised to be called that. It made him feel rejected, and the boy pushed Castiel closer to him, almost as if he was afraid the angel would forget him too.

But then he watched as Mary’s grace rolled in on itself as it tried to get away from Zep’s energy. It was too intense, untameable. It looked painful. Father and son observed the traces of Zep’s grace try to detach themselves from Mary. The grace had been taken unwillingly, his mind too young to be able to consent to feed his sister, and it hadn't been absorbed properly. It was still very much Zeppelin’s.

“Balthazar, what’s wrong with her grace?” Castiel asked.

“She fed from Zep’s grace,” Baltz said between sobs.

“You can feed from each other’s graces?”

“Of course,” Baltz laughed like his father was asking the stupidest thing. “But we're not supposed to touch Zep’s soul, you always tell us not to.”

“It wants to go back,” Cas explained as he put his boy down on the floor. Balthazar leaned against him, unwilling to let go, pulling from the sleeves of his trench-coat. “Why doesn't it just go back?”

“Zep and I can't move our graces by ourselves very well,” Balthazar explained.

Castiel nodded in understanding while the rest still shared confused glances.

“Rowena, give me the baby and take Balthazar, will you?” Cas ordered.

The witch looked taken aback by the request but when she saw the boy looking up at her, pulling his arms up in her direction instead, with so much confidence on her painted in his face, she couldn't say no. She put the sleeping baby in his father's arms and took the other boy in her arms. The familiar warmth engulfed her as he leaned his body and soul against hers. Balthazar felt comfortable and safe with her and Rowena did everything in her might to not implode with affection. Trying to deny what she felt seemed impossible now.

“Dean, lay her on the ground,” Castiel ordered as he knelt on the floor. “Everyone, back off, please.”

Dean laid Mary very gently on the floor, placing a hand behind her head so she wouldn't hit the floor harshly, then took a few steps back.

Castiel took the girl’s hand and placed it on the baby’s forehead, letting Mary’s own grace instinctively guide his brother’s away. Zeppelin’s energy immediately swimmed from one body to the other, pushing Castiel’s foreign grace away as it travelled from one sibling to the other. Castiel flinched in pain as the baby’s grace electrocuted him, warning him not to try to take it, until it settled back on the main core of his grace, right within his soul.

The angel felt forwards, trembling with echos of pain, placing a hand on the floor for support and holding on to the baby in the other. Zep woke up and started to cry so loud, the angel feared he'd hurt his vocal cords screaming like that.

“Cas!” Dean hurried to his side and knelt in front of him, helping the angel support himself as he grabbed him by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Cas nodded and swallowed hard. “He didn't mean to, but yes.” The angel looked down at his other son with nothing but tenderness and brought him to his chest, patting his back. “It's okay, son, you're okay now.”

Dean watched him with an incredulous look in his face. The angel hadn't spent longer than 5 minutes in the presence of the children and he seemed completely smitten by them already. There was something about the way Castiel look at the baby that made his insides melt. He looked so comfortable in the role of protective, caring father, it _hurt_  Dean to watch how naturally it came for the angel to be a loving parent. A part of Dean wanted to remind the angel these weren't really his children, he should be careful not to get so attached to them, but another part of him could sit and watch the way Cas’ face lit up with sweetness for the rest of his days. Even through the pain, he seemed to at ease with this family…

“Why isn't she waking up?” Sam asked as he stepped closer, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

“She needs to rest,” Balthazar simply explained. “But she's okay.”

Dean and Balthazar locked eyes for a moment. Balthazar watched Dean’s face and retreated a little into Rowena’s hold. His soul was different to the one he remembered. His dad's soul is usually bright, happy, playful. There are some shadows here and there that tell stories of past traumas and pain, but they're nothing compared to the ones in this person’s soul before him. It's darker, sadder. It makes the boy sad.

But then Dean smiled at him. It's a small, unsure smile, but it lights up all the right places in Dean’s soul, the places where Balthazar knows his compassion lays, so he smiled back.

“We all need to, but first let's get out of here, it's not safe,” Rowena said.

“She's right, let's go,” Sam as he walked toward the girl to pick her up, but Dean caught her in his arms before his brother could and threw Baby’s keys in his direction.

“I've got her, let's go,” he told Sam.

As they rushed out of the building, Baltz caught sight of the one angel that was still alive, though barely. Both Cas and himself could see on his grace similar rips to the ones the boy had given the angel that laid now dead upstairs. This angel was in pain and broken, and would die soon. Mary’s blown had been less severe than Balthazar's, but as equally deadly sooner or later.

The boy couldn't bare to see the angel agonizing.

“Wait!” Balthazar yelled and jumped out of Rowena’s embrace before she could stop him. The boy ran to the unconscious man, but was followed by Sam, who gripped his wrist and pulled him away from the angel for his own protection.

“Balthazar, no, he could hurt you!”

“But if we don't help him, he's going to die!” the boy pouted and fought his uncle easily.

“Son, let’s go, there's nothing you can do for him,” Cas stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I can save him, papa! Let me help him.”

Balthazar’s imploring eyes almost melted Castiel but he sighed, knowing there was no way anything could cure those rips. If they were smaller, perhaps the angel could have time to heal, but these were too grave, too definitive.

But his son didn't wait for permission. He rarely ever did, the cheeky little monkey he was. He turned on his heels, breaking free from Sam with an easiness that was almost embarrassing for the man, and grabbed the angel by the hand. Only once before he'd been able to feed an unconscious angel, just a couple of days ago when he fed Mary, and this would be much harder, he could tell. But he closed his eyes nonetheless, letting himself get caught up in that very Winchester-like stubborn determination, and he tried so hard to let his grace go, to let it engulf this creature’s grace and let it heal. He was shaking, he could feel Sam sighting with pity, could almost listen to his uncle trying to come up with some comforting words in his mind, and Castiel shifting as Zep went on crying against his chest. Rowena and Dean said nothing, but surely they were watching too. They didn't believe he could do it, did they? But he had to. It's what he was _meant_ to do, what his celestial family had always believed he'd do; protect them, lead them, show them a better way. They believed in him and the boy wanted so much to prove them right.

“Balthazar... Son, it's okay....” Cas spoke softly.

But it _wasn't_ okay. He had to do this, for his family and for _himself_. He was tired of being such a _failure_ of an angel.

He pushed his grace away as far as he could. He could feel it detaching from his soul somehow, though the link between them never ceased. He screwed up his face like he was trying to lift a bus with his bare hands, and finally, he let a piece of himself go and passed it on to the angel in front of him. He passed out before he could see his grace healing part of the angel’s as it melted with it.

Rowena run and took Baltz in her arms again and backed away from the angel that was suddenly waking up, as Sam raised his gun and pointed it at him, in case he tried anything.

The angel panted like he'd run a mile and then curled up in pain. His injuries were still severe, but no longer lethal. He looked around with confusion until he laid eyes on the boy. He could feel his energy now being a part of him. As the graces melted together, it became more his than Balthazar’s but his touch was still raw, like  fresh bruise before it dissolves into pink skin again.

“Is he okay?” Dean asked as Rowena returned to his side, carrying the boy.

“Yes, he's just… depleted,” Cas tilted his head as he examined his grace. It looked somehow smaller, like it'd lost a part of itself, it was the most unusual sight; graces didn't grow or diminish, but apparently this grace could give away energy and convert more again from the soul. It was a fucking miracle. Cas was perplexed as he watched it happen before his eyes.

“What did he do to me?” the healed angel asked with wide eyes.

“He saved your sorry ass,” Dean said through gritted teeth.

“He's not evil. None of them are,” Cas told him, then proceeded with a graver and more ruthless tone, “you will tell our brethren he saved you. You will tell them to stop looking for them. They are not from our universe. I will care for them and return them when it's safe for them to go back. And if any of you comes after them again, we won't be as merciful as he is. I will end _all_ of you for them. I'm giving you a choice. I won't ask twice.”

The angel considered his words for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Team Free Will retreated carefully, glancing back to make sure the angel didn't change his mind and attacked them.

When they reached the car, Rowena opened the backseat’s door but Dean told her to sit on the front with Balthazar. Sam frowned and looked at his brother in disbelief as he settled in the back with Cas and Mary; Sam could not remember the last time Dean had sat in the backseat. But the oldest Winchester gently put an arm around the unconscious girl as he laid her head in his lap, with Castiel sitting next to him. He knows Dean is thinking the same thing he's thinking; Mary called him ‘ _dad_ ’.

It could have been a mistake, maybe she thought she saw someone that wasn't really her father as her mind went dark, but goddamn, what were the odds that Balthazar would make the same mistake? It made sense, it did, he was the father of Castiel's children. Crowley had been right about his snarky remarks. And Dean had barely had time to react to that simple three-letter-word before they'd moved on but Sam saw the expression in his face- the millions of feelings that crossed his eyes. For a moment Dean had been unable to keep up whatever facade he'd put up very convincingly for years, and Sam had a glimpse of what that word had done to his brother, what it _meant_ to him. He wants to talk about it, or more precisely wants _Dean_ to talk about it because he's been keeping _so many_ things from Sam and he can see that now so clearly. But it wasn't the right time, not with the witch and his best friend present.

All Dean Winchester could think about is how goddamn _magnificent_ Castiel’s children are. They're strong and good, and forgiving. They're resilient, loyal to a fault and selflessly kind. They're definitely a reflection of Cas, he thinks, though the angel will never see it that way. He's got a bad habit of underestimating himself (just like Dean) and not seeing how truly great he is. But _Dean_ sees it. He sees it and he treasures him for it, and he hopes Castiel will tag along with them for as long as possible.

And that three-letter word haunts him. He's torn between believing the meaning behind being called that and not believing. He doesn't know which is better, which one's worse. There are two possibilities: Castiel either had the children with him or not. One of those reflects Dean’s deepest, most selfish and darkest fears, the devastating idea that Cas _could_ in fact _leave_ them one day and find someone that he loved enough to form a family with. And he feels like a piece of _shit_ because the idea of Castiel being this happy should _not_ make Dean this miserable, but it does. It makes his chest literally ache. The other possibility is as equally destructive and dangerous, and it's the absolutely terrifying one where the angel could actually love him, have a family with _him_. It was a ridiculously wild fantasy he would had never even dreamed off, but after that one word Mary spoke earlier, followed by Baltz, it spread like wildfire on a very dry California summer in Dean's mind. He was scared out of his mind to even allow himself think about it, and it confused him to his very core. He yelled at himself as he ordered his mind to stop dwelling in such impossible dreams. Because even if they were in fact his children, they _really weren't._ Some Castiel in some other universe loved him, _maybe_ , and _maybe_ Dean loved him back, but _this_ angel sitting next to Dean wasn't him. He was his Castiel, and _his_ Castiel didn't feel that way about Dean.

He shifted in his seat as he wondered why a rebellious part of him hoped they were his kids. He tried to fight the feeling but lately he'd grown unable to suppress unwelcome thoughts. A part of him longed for a family, but he'd drowned those feelings years ago when he’d left Lisa go. It wasn't on the cards for him, but he would have felt honoured to be the parent of such amazing kids. And another part of him wondered what Castiel would make of it. What did _he_ think when Balthazar called Dean 'dad'?  Did Dean want Castiel to love him like that? If Castiel loved him in some universe, could he love him in this one too?

He looked down at Mary and pulled a string of hair behind her ear.

They were safe. The children were finally safe, he should be glad, but he was only _partially_ relieved. Now he felt nervous and impatient to learn the truth. Dean _needed_ to know, for better or for worse. As terrified and confused as he was, he needed to know how this had happened. How had him and Cas had three children in another universe?

He thought of the dream he'd had days ago, how goddamn good it had felt despite how ashamed he'd been about it afterwards. The feelings he had for Cas were bursting through whatever cage he'd kept them on all these years under the false label of 'brother'. It was almost impossible to deny them any longer and yet inconceivable to admit to them either.

A very loud part of his brain shouted at him that this was way better than watching Cas love someone else. At least somewhere else, a version of himself had what he had never even allowed himself to want.

Cas leaned Zep against his chest and the baby fell asleep in his arms. Cas kissed his forehead a couple of times and hummed very softly in what Dean guessed what enochian. He looked beautiful, truly _beautiful_ , and Dean had to drag his eyes away because he was downright staring now. He caught Sam’s eyes for a moment and swallowed hard; he knew _that_ look, he knew Sam knew what he was thinking about. He couldn't bare those eyes that were yelling at him to acknowledge what had happened, what Dean felt, so he turned and looked out the window.

“Look at this,” Rowena said. Sam turned to see her going through Balthazar’s backpack carefully as the boy rested on top of her, his head laying against her shoulder. She had a fat envelope, addressed to Bobby. She reached towards the backseat and passed it on to Dean. Dean opened it and started reading the letter. He was surprised to recognise his own handwriting.

_Dear Bobby:_

_This is me, Dean Winchester, but from another universe. I know this is going to sound weird as fuck (and coming from me, that’s saying something) and I’ve no real way to prove to you that I’m saying the truth, but I’m trusting you with the life of my children and I know that if you have any resemblance to the Bobby I know, you won’t close your door in their faces. In front of you, you have Mary, Balthazar and Zeppelin. They’re nephilim. Don’t be afraid of them, they’re good kids._

_If this letter makes it to you, it’s because I need you to take care of them for a while. Lucifer has been freed in out universe and I can’t risk my children’s lives. I will fight the devil and return for my children when it’s safe, but I’m not sure when that’ll be._

_Castiel has enclosed a letter of his own with further explanations, but only your universe’s version of himself can read it. It’s the last, empty page._

_The following pages are recommendations, lists of foods the kids don’t like (doesn’t matter how much you try to make Balthazar have broccoli, he’ll spit it in your face if he has to, don’t say I didn’t warn you), general trivia on the kids’ likes and dislikes, and other things you might find useful to take care of them._

_We’ve enclosed letters to our children too. If we don’t ever go back, they’ll be our goodbye letters, I guess. You get to decide when it’s appropriate to give it to them._

_Please take care of my children. Don’t let the angels take them, I want them raised by their human family as much as possible. If I don’t go back for my kids, it’s okay for your version of myself to adopt them. I know I’ll love those kids with all my heart in every universe._

“Dean? What does it say?” Sam asked, but Dean can’t speak through the lump in his throat as he keeps reading.

_I’m sorry to cause you trouble. I love you too, in every universe, you’re like a father to me, and you’re a wonderful grandfather to my kids._

_Please remind them how much I love them, everyday. Mary will be angry, I know it, please be patient with her. She’s just scared. Balthazar doesn’t know about Lucifer, but she does. If I don’t go back for them, don’t ever let them come back for us. Please, just tell them to live and be happy._

“It… explains…” that’s all Dean managed to say without with voice breaking. He stopped just as his breath hitched with emotion.

That wasn’t enough explanation at all for the rest of the party, who waited for Dean to continue but he never did.

Dean’s hands are shaking, for so many reasons, he doesn’t know what to feel first.

First of all, he thinks of Bobby. It warms his heart to agree with this other Dean on their feelings for the old man; he’ll love him in _every goddamn universe_ because the man had been and will always be a father to him. But the other version of himself took Bobby for granted when he chose him as the protector of his children. Bobby wasn’t around in their universe, not anymore. How the fuck was he going to tell the children their grandfather was dead here? Had they figured out that much themselves already? The remains of Bobby’s house were in pretty bad shape, it was obvious nobody lived there anymore.

Dean couldn't help but wonder how Bobby had managed to survive in that universe. What was different there, what has permitted the old man to go on with his life to be a granddaddy? What Dean wouldn't give to go back in time and fix whatever had gone wrong in their story-line to be able to hug the old grump one again.

Then, there was the tiny thing where it was finally confirmed that _he_ was the father of the children. Now there was absolutely no space for mistakes, misunderstandings- no, _he_ was their father. Cas had chosen _him_ , in some universe, to be his partner. And it was stupid that he felt flattered and hopeful, because this was _not_ the same Castiel he knew.

Finally, he couldn’t help but feel terrible for that other Dean. He felt the pain of giving up his children for their own safety as if he had done the decision himself. The love with which he spoke of them… Dean just knew there wasn’t anything more precious than them. The fathers of these children had no problem dying if their children were safe somewhere else.

“Dean?”

Cas was calling him, but Dean just couldn’t look up. He coughed, trying to swallow that goddamn lump in his throat, and decides that he cannot, just cannot look up at those blue eyes right now. He’ll break. Instead, he pretended to be busy and shuffled through the pages, going through the list of useful trivia the other version of himself had talked about, actually reading some of it, but mostly spacing out between sentences.

  * _Don’t make Zep wait when he cries, he may cause an earthquake if you leave him in the crib alone for too long._
  * _Let Mary go back to school if she asks, that’ll give her something to do, friends to play with._
  * _If you buy candy/cookies, hide them before Balthazar even knows of their existence. If he sees them, he’ll never stop looking for them._
  * _The kids can feed other angels and each other with their graces, and vice versa._
  * _Balthazar isn’t allowed to go to the playground yet. He’s got trouble managing his strength, he could hurt someone. (do not ever tickle him, might break your arms or ribs accidentally. trust me) (keep an eye on him when he plays with his cousin)_



Dean's heart skipped a beat;  _Sam_ had children too? Did he have a wife? Was he happy? That's all Dean had ever wanted for his little brother, and he'd always felt like it was his fault Sam never got the quiet, normal life he'd tried to pursuit, no matter how many times he told himself Azazel would had ruined his life anyway. Maybe if Dean had tried harder to convince Sam to move on after he passed away, to have a normal life, instead of dragging him into a hunter lifestyle again...

  * _Also, he doesn’t know to fly yet. It makes him vomit, so don’t let him._
  * _They do grace exercises everyday, tell Mary to teach Baltz if Castiel isn’t there to help them._
  * _Mary hates being called princess._
  * _Sam’s not allowed to tell Balthazar hunting stories._
  * _Balthazar’s bedtime’s 9 pm. He’ll fight you every night. He always says he doesn’t need to sleep as much anymore, but he’s always tired the following day. Bedtime’s 9, immovable. Mary can stay a little longer._
  * _Zep falls asleep easily if you sing to him._
  * _Baltz afraid of clowns (I blame Sam for that)_
  * _Cas has a strict waffle policy: not more than twice a week. Good luck with that._
  * _Mary's favourite movie is Nightmare Before Christmas. Play it if she's sad, she likes to sing along with me._



His heart warmed a little at the list of songs the children liked; he recognised many of his own favourite artists there. These children weren’t his but _goddamn_ , they seemed _made_ just for him.

Dean reached the last page, the blank one, and Cas gasped and took it from Dean’s grip.

“My grace,” he said under his breath, so quietly Dean had barely heard him. He frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t see it, but it’s got a piece of my grace,” Castiel watched the white paper with amazement. He looked up to see the man’s confused expression and quickly tried to come up with a better way to explain, a human analogy to what this represents. “It’s like… A handprint, but multidimensional. It's attached to the paper to keep it in place. It contains a part of me that could travel through space. It’s got my memories. Well, the other Castiel's memories..."

“That’ll explain everything, then, right?” Sam asked, looking at the pair through the rear-view mirror.

“Yes, it will,” Cas responded. He looked down at the piece of paper with uncertainty, and there was an edge of fear in his eyes, yet there was also excitement. Finally, the answer to all his questions. But he was worried, just like Dean was, that he was going to see something that he liked _too much_ , something he would never be able to stop thinking about. If you saw your wildest dreams coming true, yet forever out of reach, would you want to see them anyway? Would you want to know they were possible, yet not for _you_?

He swallowed and pressed his hand over the handprint painted with grace. He shut his eyes and let the memories bombard his brain. He was overwhelmed by the million images that flew into his mind all at once, and gasped.

“Cas?” Dean touched his shoulder softly, a little worried, as Castiel shook slightly. “Are you alright? What did you see?”

Cas looked up to him and it was like he was seeing Dean Winchester for the first time. He’d definitely just seen Dean in whole new ways he’d never even imagined, including some very compromising positions too…

The angel opened his mouth to speak but wasn’t sure what to say. What the hell was he going to say anyway, right there and there, in front of everyone? How could he possibly explain he’d seen everything he wanted coming true _for someone else_? How would Dean feel if he confessed in front of everyone he saw themselves falling in love and forming a family? Dean wouldn’t like that, he’d be uncomfortable, the angel knew it, knew _him_ , _this_ Dean that saw next to him. _This_ Dean wasn’t _that_ Dean he’d seen himself kissing in these new, beautiful but treacherous memories. His heart was aching, _screaming_ , at the pain of what he could have had and never came true.

“Everything. I saw everything.”

 _I saw the story of you and me_.

He saw it again and again _and again_ , what could have been, in another lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users): spookyboysam ; amal-albuloshia ; 1-crazy-dreamer ; soluscheese ; heytheredeann ; lovesj2m ; mariamaynot ; castiells ; ahoyspn


	19. In Another Lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, I hope you enjoy this one, I'm not really good writing sex so bear with me.  
> Thank you thank you for reading <3

Dean ran out of the brothel closely followed by a frowning, confused Castiel. The man couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation, his head thrown back and all.

“Oh, man, that was funny,” he chuckled as he wiped away a tear and put an arm around the angel’s shoulders while they walked back to the car. He likes the closeness and, in his state of intoxication, Dean lets himself enjoy the touch shamelessly. He feels the angel’s rock-hard shoulders and tightened his grip on his arm to bring him as close to him as possible. “We should go out more often, Cas.”

“As much as I'd like that, I don't really comprehend what's so funny about the situation,” the angel said in a grave voice that matched his frowny face. It just made Dean laugh even harder. “Her father-”

“Oh, Cas, we all have daddy issues. Can't save us all. Just enjoy the ride sometimes, you know?”

“The ride where?” Cas tilts his head and Dean chuckles, finding the angel's cluelessness adorable at the moment.

“It was just a saying- never mind. God, I haven't laugh like this in a while. _Years_ , I think.”

Dean is still laughing when they get into the car and Cas for a moment smiles find fondness as he watches the Winchester’s soul shine abnormally bright. It's a moment of true happiness and fun for the man, and it's not something Cas gets to see very often. Shining bright like this, there's something about the soul that calls him in a very intoxicating way, like a  siren’s song. His grace wants to reach out and touch his soul, protect it and keep it this happy and at peace forever. Dean's suffered so much already…

“What?” Dean asks, still smiling. Cas has always known he was beautiful; all of his father's creations were, but there something about _that_ smile, right there and there, that changed something between them. At least for the angel. It was the sudden realisation of something extremely obvious. How could he have not seen how magnificent Dean was before?

“You look so… happy.” Cas says. “It's beautiful. You're beautiful.”

Dean blushes instantly, his smile being partially replaced with an embarrassed look. Dean huffs a laugh and turns his head around to stare out the windshield.

“I’m sorry, was that impolite?” Cas asks.

Dean shakes his head, smiling despite his embarrassment. He feels a strange warmth spreading through his body and though he tells himself it's the alcohol, he knows that's not really it. It's Cas. It's what he just said. It's how he makes Dean _feel_. A part of him wants to shy away, says he's going to hate himself for feeling this way in the morning, but that part has also been drowned by alcohol and isn't really in charge of Dean's head anymore. Not tonight. No, another more animal part of him rules right now, one that acts out of instinct, _recklessly_ really, and likes to tease and test the field.

“You know, I'm sorry we couldn't get you laid, man,” he says. “No man should die a virgin. Specially if they're millions of years old,” he snorts and bites his lip playfully. He doesn't know what he expects to gain with this behaviour but he can't help rambling on.

“Well, I still could.”

“You wanna get in there again? They'll kick our asses,” Dean chuckles and turns around to meet his eyes. Only then the smug smile on his face drops a little. There's something about the way the angel’s looking at him...

“Oh, no, I don't want to go back there,” Cas speaks and Dean wonders if he's speaking more slowly or if time is _actually_ passing in slow motion, as the angel continues to speak, “I think you're perfectly capable of showing me how it's done.”

Dean’s jaw drops and he stares at the man next to him, all the while gripping the steering wheel with unnecessary force, like he's trying to hold on to reality. Cas did _not_ just that to him. That's impossible.

“I'm sorry, _what_?” he asks stupidly, blinking several times.

“I said-”

“I-know-what-you-said,” Dean blurts out quickly, barely leaving space between the words.

“Then why did you ask?” Cas narrowed his eyes.

Dean opens his mouth, but he doesn't know what he wants to say, so he closes it again, only to reopen it a moment later to stammer stupidly. “But- I mean- Cas- you're-you're _gay_?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. Humans and their insistent, unnecessary need to label themselves _and_ others...

“I'm indifferent to sexual orientation, Dean. There's beauty in all of mankind, no matter their gender identity. And you're probably the most beautiful of them all.”

The way he says it, it is so natural, Dean can't help but wonder if Cas has always thought of him like that. And then he wonders _what else_ Cas thinks about him… And suddenly a very drunk part of him that is loving the way his thoughts are escalating and rambling on uncontrollably, yells at Dean to reconsider what he thinks of the angel.

“But I understand if you don't want to,” Cas goes on, speaking calmly like they're discussing the weather and not sex, “I think I understand how you-”

“I do. I want to,” Dean says quickly before the kind of unconscious, macho part of him that is going to punch him in the brain the following morning is able to stop him.

Cas nods like that settles it, then, very simply, and Dean can fucking swear he's going to ask something stupid yet oddly adorable like how they should proceed, so instead Dean _just proceeds_. Before the angel has time to react, Dean fists the front of his goddamn, ridiculously charming trench-coat and pulls him in into a rather forced kiss. It has to be that way, it can't be sweet and tender, Dean doesn't have time to think. If he thinks, he'll stop, his brain must not be allowed time to catch up if he wants to see this through. And fuck, he wants to see this through now that he's opened this door.

Cas yelps in surprise but he doesn't push Dean way. Dean kisses him roughly, stubble scratching against stubble, lips crashing into his. As soon as Cas opens his mouth in the slightest, Dean seizes the opportunity to stick his tongue inside his mouth and it brushes against Castiel’s own, in a way that playfully asks for permission. Cas tries to imitate the movement as best he can with his own, but a part of him is overwhelmed by the intensity of physical contact, so Dean takes over, moving lips and tongue against the angel’s, showing him the way to go. Cas can feel his hot breath against his mouth, can taste the alcohol in his mouth and smell the manly scent of Dean. He wants to reach out and touch Dean just as the man’s hands start exploring his body, but he doesn't know where to begin, or where he's allowed to touch him and where he isn't. One of Dean's hands makes it's way to the back of Cas’s neck and runs his fingers through his hair while the other one grips his tie, keeping Cas in place. Dean handles him in a way that's almost bossy, and though there's nothing gentle about the way he’s behaving, Cas can feel the warmth of his soul emanating some kind of newfound affection Dean has for him. It's a very strange contrast to his uncivilised actions, and he realises Dean probably doesn't know Cas can see the change is his soul, so Cas tries to ignore it, knowing he's not supposed to be able to read his feelings in his soul, and focuses on their physical forms instead.

He catches up with Dean and kisses him back with a hunger he didn't know he was capable of. The man had been right, sex seemed fun, it felt good as Dean shoved him against the seat in a false pretence of control; in reality, Castiel was _oh so many times_ stronger, but there was something exciting about letting Dean lead. And there was something just marvellous about the way Dean’s hot skin felt against his own as his hands wandered under his shirt.

Suddenly Dean broke the kiss, though he remained extremely close to the angel, and started pushing the angel upwards and over the seat.

“To the back,” he growled the order, a little out of breath.

Castiel didn't need telling twice. Both of them all but jumped to the backseat, where Dean pinned Castiel down, positioning himself on top of him almost immediately. His hands found their place again under the angel's shirt. Dean explored his ribs, his stomach, gripped his hips, pulling him closer. He wasn't just drunk on alcohol, but on _Castiel_. There were so many things that felt so different to what he was used to; curves replaced by sharp edges, a bulge between Cas’ legs to make up for lack of breasts, rough stubble brushing against his own… he should be terrified to be so into it, maybe even disgusted, but he's too far gone to care. He likes it, he likes the way Cas feels under him and the taste he leaves in Dean’s mouth, the clean smell of him mixed with something that reminds him of wet grass in the forest after rain. He likes that Cas thinks he's beautiful, the way he smiled so kindly and genuinely happy for him while he'd watched Dean laugh.

“Off, take it off,” Dean mumbles into Castiel’s mouth as he tries to undo the angel's tie, but he's trying to to take it off so fast that he actually ends up making the knot tighter. Cas has no patience for it and simply rips it of, breaking it. Dean huffs a laugh as he thinks how hot the angel's impatience is.

Their mouths are on each other again as Dean unbuttons his shirt. They shed layer after layer of clothes until they're almost naked, wearing nothing but their boxers as Dean briefly kneels on top of him to take of his shirt. For the slightest moment he catches sight of the angel looking up at him with both a predatory look and adoration. Dean almost begins to shake under the weight of those blue eyes and whatever hidden meaning there is under them, and he lowers himself again to bite and kiss Castiel’s neck because he can't bear to be looked at like that by someone so good. He doesn't deserve Cas looking at him with so much trust and affection, and if he dwells in that train of thought for much longer, he's going to panic and run away. But Dean doesn't see the way his soul lights up with hope and affection of his own, and Castiel doesn't mean to pry but he cannot just ignore it. He sees it, and he likes it, and it only makes his own feelings grow faster than he knew they could.

Dean think it’s a good moment to roll his hips against Cas’ as he looks for friction, knowing both of them need it and want it. Castiel closes his eyes and moans in surprise at the new type of pleasure. Dean licks his neck and bites his collarbone and thrust forward again, once, twice… He knows he's getting hard and feeling Cas’ own erection rising just adds up to his excitement. A part of his brain asks what the hell he's doing, but his senses are too aware of the unholy noises coming out of the angel’s mouth to care about what his brain has to say right now. Something that sounds that good can't be too bad.

Completely shamelessly, a hand runs down Cas’s body and he stops with his fingers teasing the edge of his briefs. “You're gonna like this, Cas,” Dean whispers with a small smirk before his hand finally slips under the angel's underwear and grips his erection with determination. Dean will never get the expression of the angel’s face out of his head as he begun to stroke him in a way that Dean knew he himself loved. This was new but so familiar, he'd done it to himself so many times before he could hardly consider himself a virgin in the area, even if this was another man he was doing this to.

 _It's not another man_ , he thinks, _it's Cas_.

And instead of panicking, which is what he'd normally do, a new sense of purpose strikes Dean. This is _Cas_ , for God’s sake. This is the angel that rescued him from _Hell_ , the one and only that would rebel against his entire kin to help him. Cas was his friend and was risking his life for Dean. And now he was giving himself completely to him. He didn't seem nervous or scared, like he had in the brothel. He seemed eager, he looked at him with a rare fondness that Dean didn't receive quite often in his line of work. He’s going to make sure this is good for Cas. If Raphael smites the fuck out of them tomorrow, or the day after that, or who knows when, he's going to make sure this angel doesn't die without knowing what it's like to love  _physically_.

Cas arches his back and throws his head back, eyes closed, mouth opened with a choked moan as Dean pumps him.  Dean just looks at the expression of pure pleasure in his face, perplexed at how much it turns him on. The part in him that would normally panic at the simple thought  of touching another man is dissolving embarrassingly fast and he wonders what the hell took them this long. How could he have not noticed how fucking hot Castiel was in all this time they knew each other? Or if he did, how did he manage to never _admit_ that to himself? Well, there was no going back now.

Dean’s hands leave the angel’s swollen member and Cas opens his eyes, moaning in disagreement. Dean chuckles as he moves to position between his legs.

“Off,” he orders for the second time that night, pulling the angel’s underwear down. He pulls his own last piece of clothing off, kicking it off and laying back on top of Cas. He stops, hesitating for the first time that night while a very impatient angel thrusts up, looking for the pleasure he now knows comes from friction. Dean closes his eyes to concentrate when their erections got caught up between their stomachs. “C-cas, wait.”

“What?”

The angel is so out of breath, the sounds of his voice is almost pornographic.

“We lack certain… _equipment_.”

“I didn't know one needed-”

“ _Lube_ , Cas, we don't have _lube_ , _okay_?” Dean blushes furiously.

“That's okay.”

“The hell it is. I don't want to hurt you.”

Cas regards Dean and there it is again that fondness swimming in that sea of blue that makes the man’s soul do a flip and dance around like an idiot. Castiel smiles at his soul, unable to help himself.

“It's alright, you won't,” the angel assures him, pulling Dean closer for another kiss.

“Trust me, Cas, I-”

“Dean, I'm not a man. I’m an angel,” Castiel says in a tone that is absolute and sure of himself. “You can't hurt me, I promise.”

Dean sights but allows Cas to kiss him. He relaxes as he melts into the kiss, all he can think about is Cas’ soft lips and his hands on his naked back, and the friction in his cock as they move together against each other. He knows it's not going to take him long to give in to the temptation, so he decides to fuck it (quite literally), and do it better sooner than later; he doesn't want to get overexcited and then disappointed the angel.

“You let me know if you want me to stop,” Dean whispers against Castiel’s mouth as he positions himself at the entrance of the angel’s most intimate place

 _This is it_ , Dean thinks. He's done this with other women, he has, but never with another man. _This is it_. If he does this- this is the true point of no return. After this, he can't pretend it was just the alcohol,  he can't tell himself it was a mistake, a rushed decision… No, this is a _conscious_ decision to fuck a man. An _angel_. He feels his chest tight with an invisible pressure and the change is visible in his soul too.

“It's okay, Dean,” Cas speaks softly. Dean barely opens his eyes to look at the angel. There's no judgement there, no pressure, no expectations. He could walk out of the car right now and Castiel wouldn't hold it against him. He'd understand, he always did, and that's exactly why Dean decides to just do it. It can't be that scary to do this with someone who so sincerely cared for him…

Castiel holds his breath as Dean penetrates him. The man closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the angel's shoulder, his body trembling as he tries his best to move slowly and carefully to give Cas time to adjust around him. If Dean touching him had been overwhelming, Castiel has no words, in English at least, to describe this new feelings, when Dean is finally fully inside him. He stops for a moment, giving himself time to make sense of the pleasure in the tightness that engulfs him, and sighs against the angel’s skin before he plants a trail of kisses from Cas' shoulder to his mouth.

With unexpected tenderness, Dean finds himself nudging the angel's nose with his own to call for his attention.

“You okay?” he asks, voice cracking with a bit of a moan.

Cas nods, that's all the response he can come up with. Dean observes him for a moment to make sure it's pleasure and _not_ pain that's rendering the angel speechless, and when he decides it’s the first reason, he begins to pull out slowly. Just before the head comes out, he thrusts in again, and begins to rock his hips backwards and forwards in a slow but decisive rhythm.

The angel is completely lost, drowned in a sea of Dean; his touch, his kisses, the sharp stabs of pleasure he's causing in his body, the subtlety of his gentleness, the hunger with which his soul is unconsciously leaning against his grace. Like a blind man reaching out for someone to take his hand, Dean’s soul is screaming at Cas to understand it needs something Dean’s not allowed to ask for. Dean’s not even allowed to hope for it, but his soul bears deep secrets that are visible for an angel. And Cas is too lost to resist, so he leans forwards too, engulfing Dean’s soul with his grace, twisting it delicately, teasing it, loving it.

Dean gasps with pleasure. He can't understand where the feeling is coming from but he doesn't stop to ask either. He picks up his pace, his hips slamming hard against Castiel until he’s fully in and then coming out to repeat the movement. The combination of those two sources of pleasure is proving to be too much and he knows he's not going to last much longer, not with Cas moaning like that against his mouth. Cas grips his soul so tightly, for a moment he's not sure where it ends and his grace begins, and Dean is letting go, he is giving Cas his soul freely to ravage it as he fucks the angel’s physical body.

Cas is the first one to find release and when he does, his grace twists violently, caught up in the new, intense physical feeling, forcing Dean’s soul to twist too. The human chokes a surprised moan and he comes so suddenly and intensively, he can't even think as his sight turns to nothing but white stars. He can't breath as he can somehow feel a very incorporeal part of him literally _break_. It feels good beyond human comprehension and he falls on top of Cas, breathing hard, paying no attention to the mess of Cas' release between their stomachs. The angel holds him rather unconsciously, lost in his own pleasure, when he feels a part of Dean’s soul retreating with his grace. Castiel is too stunned for a moment to make much of it, Dean’s soul still shining so bright it's almost blinding. But this little part of Dean- it's not _in him_ anymore, it's following Cas’ grace back to his core.

Cas frowns.

That wasn't normal. Dean’s soul can't fragment like that.

He very stupidly tries to push the piece of soul away back towards Dean, like someone who tries to detach gum you've just stepped on just by moving their feet in the air, when he realises there's a part of him attached to it.

Dean, completely clueless to what's happening, begins to pull away. His cheeks are red and his hair is messy, and he looks embarrassed and suddenly unsure, but hopeful.

“Cas-”

He looks at the angel, trying to come up with something to say, but he doesn't even know _what_ he wants to say. What  _is_ there to say? How do they proceed after this?

The angel wants to pay attention to him but suddenly his brethren are screaming in his head at the same time, are yelling the news at each other and arguing about what to do about it.

And he finally understands.

That piece of soul’s not longer _Dean’s_ and that piece of his grace is not longer his either. It's something new, something _independent_ , something they've created together, accidentally.

Cas sits up rather quickly, forcing Dean to sit back. He frowns, confused by the angel’s sudden look of panic.

“Cas? What is it? Did I hurt you?”

The angel looks up at him like he's trying to make sense of what Dean's even referring to, like the man wasn't inside him just a minute ago.

How can he tell Dean? How can Castiel even begin to explain what he's done? He got so caught up in the physical pleasure and the irresistible calling on Dean’s loving soul- he hadn't meant to steal a piece, he hadn't meant to create life.

And they could die soon. This was probably the worst time _ever_ to conceive a child. How can he tell Dean he might have a child he'll never get to meet? It'll destroy him.

The suddenly distant look in Cas’ eyes make no sense to Dean and the blue in his eyes goes from ocean deep blue in a summer day to dark and treacherous in a sea storm. Something's changed, something's wrong, and Dean’s instinct is to think it's his fault. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have done any of it. He’s just _defiled_ an angel of the _freaking lord_. And now Cas regrets it.

Cas sees Dean’s soul twist in agony and it _hurts._

“Dean, no, it’s not about you,” he says.

Dean looks away and picks up his boxers to put them on, shame washing over him. The wave of feelings is like a punch to his gut. The several positive feelings he'd allowed himself to feel again after so long are saying their goodbyes are they're replace with bitterness, regret, disappointment. And above all, he hates himself. He hates himself for even letting his heart trick his brain into being so stupid. What was he expecting? Dean Winchester, worthy of being loved by the most perfect being on the universe?

“Dean, _listen_ to me,” Cas pulls Dean’s head up, a finger lifting his chin. “It’s _not_ about you.”

“Right, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? You’re _really_ going to say that to me?” Dean says coldly, because he needs to be cold if he wants to pretend Cas pulling away from him doesn’t break his heart into a million pieces.

“ _Yes_ , it is me. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Dean just stares at him, clenching his jaw, trying hard not to rip the shirt in his hands.

“Well, Cas, I wish you would have thought of that _before_ we-”

“No, that wasn’t the mistake, you’re misunderstanding.”

But the stubborn Winchester’s not listening. His mind is set, he’s got an army of insults for himself already piled up to bombard himself with at night.

“Will you just listen to me!” Cas yells at him, shaking Dean. The man looks up, finally more surprised than upset. “Stop pitying yourself for a moment and _listen_ , Dean. As hard as it might be for you to believe, I _do_ love you.”

Dean blinks stupidly a couple of times.

“What?”

“I do. I do, and because of that, I- I’m sorry, it was accident, I-”

“Cas, what?”

Cas sights. “I took a piece of your soul.”

Dean frowns. That explained that weird thing he felt when he came.

“Okay…? And that’s bad? It felt pretty good,” he laughs, blushing.

“You don’t understand. I can’t keep it.”

Cas looks at him with pleading eyes as he waits for Dean to understand, but the human just stared right back at him, his confusion never seizing.

“Then where is it?” he asks, suddenly looking around the car despite himself. Castiel wants to slap him for being so dumb.

“It’s in me.”

“I thought you just said-”

“For crying out loud, Dean, I’m ‘pregnant’” Cas says, air quotes and all. Dean looks at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. He feels relief that _this_ is the cause of the outburst and not some kind of last minute regret. Cas watches his soul relax and he knows Dean doesn’t believe him.

“Cas, I can _assure_ you, that’s not how it works,” Dean pats him in the back as he chuckles.

If he didn’t look so devastatingly beautiful, Cas could smite him.

“I know how human reproduction works, Dean! But I’m not a man. I’m an _angel_ , you ass. And I’m telling you, I’m what you humans consider to be pregnant. A piece of your soul and a piece of my grace broke apart and they came together to form life. And it’s within me, for now.”

Dean opens his mouth to disagree, then closes it again, thinking he actually knows nothing of angelic reproduction. He always figured they _didn’t_ , God just made them. Now that he really thinks of it, he’s not entire sure. He knows nothing about graces, or souls really.

His own panic starts to build up inside him as he looks at the angel for any sign that might tell him Cas is kidding, but he looks dead serious and worried, and _sorry_. It seems like he’s waiting for Dean to yell at him at any moment now, and though he understands why this is a very good reason to panic, a pathetic little optimism starts to grown on him. Sure, knocking up your one and almost only ally in the verge of the apocalypse is probably the worst timing ever to start a family, but then again Dean never even thought he’d have the chance to have one. Even through his darkest moments, his family had always been the cause to fight and move forwards.

“Cas…”

“Dean, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was an accident,” Cas shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

It warms Dean to see Castiel panic about something so human and it brings out the best in him. When one panics, the other must keep calm.

“It’s alright, Cas, it was all rather accidental,” Dean smiles, blushing, as reaches with a shaky hand to grab Castiel’s. “But it can be a happy accident… Right?”

He looks at the angel with hopeful, green eyes and Cas wants to melt in them. Dean’s soul is so hungry for reassurance that this was real, that this new bond between them isn’t just going to do away, that Cas can’t find it in himself to pull away and succumb into despair. He interlocks their fingers together instead, welcoming the warmth of Dean’s touch again.

“Yes, it is… But, Dean, we’re in more danger than ever now.”

Dean laughs again, to the angel’s surprised. “When are we ever _not_ in danger?”

“I’m se-”

“I’m serious too. It’s done, Cas. I thought I would never be a father, so forgive me, but I can’t bring myself to be totally unhappy about this,” Dean can’t help but smile at the word. Jesus, he’s going to be a _father_ . _If_ he stops the goddamn apocalypse from happening. “The way I see it, we’ve got the most important reason to fight harder than ever. So tomorrow we trap Raphael. And the day after that, we keep working until we find a way to stop Lucifer. And after we do all of that, you and I could- I don’t know- try to be happy, _for once._ What do you say?”

Dean draws circles in Cas’ hand with his thumb. It’s the tiniest, little expression of affection but the angel thinks he really likes that. He wants to grow used to that feeling.

“I’d like that.”

It turns out, not all angels are against Castiel. His kind is torned, divided; some were willing to follow Castiel and strongly opposed to the apocalypse. The ones that followed Castiel and wanted him and the Winchesters to succeed, saw this child as an example of how angels could co-exist with humans and learn to love them as their Father had; the child could even be the guide to a new, brighter tomorrow of peace among angels and humankind. Dean wasn't exactly thrilled by this, having a race of powerful beings already throwing responsibilities and heavy weight in the shoulders of his unborn child, but he kept quiet, knowing well they needed the help of as many angels they could get.

Mary was born way faster than a human baby, thankfully before their encounter with Lucifer, before Sam jumped to the pit. Bobby stayed behind to take care of her, and the two parents kissed their baby goodbye, maybe for good, before they left to look for Sam and Lucifer, who then walked amongst them as one. Dean was devastated to lose his brother, but though he felt terribly guilty to be alive, a part of him was thankful to be able to go back to his daughter. He held her through the night in Bobby’s living-room and cried his heart out while he sang to her, mourning the loss of his brother (though not for long, Sam was brought back by Castiel shortly after) and the  regular absence of Castiel, who now had to find a way to stop Raphael from bringing the apocalypse back. But he kept going, for his daughter's sake.

But Castiel was losing, and he knew that. In a desperate attempt to beat Raphael, Castiel searched for a way to open the gates of Purgatory to use the souls there as weapons. Balthazar found out and stopped him just in time. 

“If you do this, our brothers will never forgive you,” Balthazar said softly.

“I don’t have a choice,” Cas said with a heavy heart. “I have to stop Raphael. I have to protect my family.”

“I know,” Balthazar said with a tone that was uncharacteristically gentle. “Someone has to stop Raphael, I _know_ that. So… Let me do this for you, Cassie. You've a family to live for.”

Cas looks taken aback by the selfless offering. Balthazar snorts.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked, it’s rather offensive,” he mocks his brother as he tries to pretend the subject isn't dead serious.

"I can't let you do that, Balthazar. I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

“Brother… I don’t want to leave my niece without her father. You know what we see in her, what her soul is like. She’s the future, we all know it. And you’ll need to show her the right way. I want to do this for you, for all of us. Please.”

Cas hesitated but he knew Balthazar was right. He wanted with all his might to return to his baby daughter, to _Dean_ , who probably hates his guts right now for all his filthy lies, and he would have to work hard to regain his trust, but if there was the tiniest chance to be back with his family… His heart ached to be reunited with them, to put her daughter to bed, to watch Dean sleep and dissolve his nightmares away with kisses. All he can think about is his family, his daughter, the man he'd grown to love so much. 

When the time came, Castiel and Balthazar gathered the ingredient for the spell and his brother stopped Castiel from his hands dirty. He destroyed Raphael and died as he put back the souls in purgatory, being ripped apart by the leviathans as he pushed them back into the realm they belonged to.

Dean watches his angel crumble on the floor and mourn his brother. He knows that kind of pain too well and he can’t find it in himself to be mad at Castiel just then. The dude’s immortal, he’ll have time to be angry later. Right now, Cas needs him and damn, has Dean _missed_ him like he'd been living with only one lung. So he holds him when he cries, he helps him burn Balthazar’s body, and then takes him back to Bobby’s, which is the closest thing they have to a home, where their daughter is waiting for them. For now, he was just glad to have the angel by his side again and he forgets all his anger as soon as they lips reunite.

Nothing’s ever simple for them, some big bad constantly tries to take over, but Dean and Cas always keep fighting to protect their world, their family. With Raphael gone and Mary getting stronger everyday, Castiel gained the trust of his fellow brothers and sisters, and they accepted the nephilim as one of their own. There's peace between Earth and Heaven, for once.

Forever grateful, when their second child is born, a beautiful baby boy, they named him Balthazar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: all-you-need-is-spn ; soluscheese ; songofthecagedmoose ; weallneedcastiel ; ackledjensen


	20. Chapter 20

“What do you mean, _everything_?” Sam asks. He’s beginning to get impatient with these two idiots dancing around whatever questions are thrown at them.

Cas takes a deep breath, looking back and forth between the Winchester brothers. He doesn’t know what to do: he can’t answer the question without revealing a lot about the nature of his relationship with Dean in this other universe, and he can’t do that without making Dean feel terribly uncomfortable. Rowena and Sam _know_ , he can see it in their faces, but Dean doesn’t look so ready to talk about it. He’s avoiding looking up at any f then, holding onto the papers in his hands like his life depends on it, and the angel pretends he can’t see the way they’re shaking.

How can he possibly explain what he saw, anyway? He saw _everything_ . He saw Dean in ways he’d never thought he’d seen him. And it wasn’t just the _very graphic_ memories of them having sex in many places, in many different ways (and _damn_ , the angel had to make a particular effort not to think about those memories because it was really inappropriate to dwell on those images right there and there)... No, it was the little things, the simple memories of two people who live and build their lives together; it was something so simple as Dean sleeping by his side what made his insides ache with jealousy. Cas had hundreds of new memories of Dean sleeping; the human would curl in on himself on a bed by Cas’ side, an arm securely holding the sleepless angel in place through the night. Cas watched over him as the he slept, and kept watch through the nights in case Dean had any nightmares. Sometimes Castiel would read or do research, other times he’d go through mixtapes Dean made for him, other times he simply cuddled Dean through the darkness, feeling at peace and at home. In the mornings, Dean would wake up just a little earlier than the kids to have a couple of minutes with his angel all to himself. With his eyes still closed and only half-awake, Dean would plant kisses on his neck to announce he was waking up. Cas would smile, every single damn time, and pull Dean closer. It wasn’t unusual for them to make love after that. Sometimes it was raw, almost animal sex, while other times it was sweet, slow, and Castiel could almost feel Dean whispering ‘I love you’ into his ear… It was the memories of the two of them playing in the backyard of Bobby’s house with their daughter, teaching her how to walk when she was just a clueless, chubby baby, that had the angel in the verge of tears because the sight was just too sweet, too beautiful, and too _painful_ because it wasn’t _real_ , those weren’t his memories; it was the sweet melody of Dean singing on Sunday mornings while he made brunch for the family because they all woke up too late and Balthazar would beg for waffles, and Dean could not say no to waffles on sundays; it was the tender feeling he got in his chest of finally belonging somewhere while he remembered lying on the couch with all his family, watching some kid movie on a rainy day… Countless memories of Dean smiling were now imprinted forever in his mind, a thousand close-ups of Dean’s expressions as they talked in bed, a hundred different kinds of moans Castiel had produced out of him, and so many hugs and  caresses he loses count of the total. Dean was _at least_ twice as happy in that universe, and when they’re home with their children, there’s not a day Castiel doesn't hear Dean laugh at some weird question from Balthazar. The angel saw the potential in them to be happier than he’d ever dared to hope for. He sees Dean’s soul healing, finally letting go of the pain and the anger that had haunted him his entire life, to be replaced with an unthinkable wave of affection that the celestial beings could literally see when Dean sat at the table with them for dinner and watched his family with adoration. Mary smiled at Castiel, knowing he sees the way her dad’s soul lights up too, and they’re happy, _painfully_ happy, and Cas wanted to drown himself in those memories and never see the light of day again.

“Cas?” Sam looked at him through the rear-view mirror. He sounded worried and a little exasperated. “Are you alright?”

Cas nodded. “It’s just… A little overwhelming.” And it’s an understatement, because the angel felt an overwhelming sense of loss at what he never had. He’s almost mourning a life that never was. The divergence with their universe had been minimal; a little more alcohol for Dean, a small change in their conversation, and their lives had taken a dramatic turn for the best. If only Cas had been more straightforward, less modest, he could have had it all. He coughed in an attempt to dissolve the thick lump in his throat and patted the sleeping baby’s butt gently just to have something to do with his hands. “There’s… A lot of memories.”

“Well, can you make a summary for us? What happened? What’s different from our world?” Sam asked, pretending he doesn’t notice there’s something wrong with his tone. It wouldn’t be polite to point it out, he thinks.

“A lot of things really,” Cas answered and Sam sighed, irritated.

Cas turned his head very slowly to look at Dean. He looked at the man from the corner of his eyes to find him doing the same. The looked at each other, _barely_ , and none said a word for a moment.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Rowena snapped, “Dean’s their father, isn’t he?”

The angel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at Dean, silently asking permission to affirm the statement. Dean swallowed hard and looked down at the letter again.

“Yes,” he said. It pains Castiel to see how upset Dean seems. Where so far gone from the possibility of being together that Dean can be so disgusted with the thought? Have they lost their chance to mimic at least half the happiness those other versions of themselves found?

“Well, dear, congratulations, you’re the father of three little gods, it’s not a damn funeral, you know?” the witch rolled her eyes at Dean.

Sam was torn; he agreed with Rowena, it wasn’t even in the top 100 bad news they’d ever received, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Dean: this was _a lot_ to take in. Especially when Dean had nowhere to escape to and no alcohol to drown himself in. That last one was for the better, he supposed.

But he saw his brother struggling to keep himself together through the the reflection in the mirror, and decided to cut him some slack, so before either him, the witch or the angel could say anything else, he took the lead. “Why don’t we all calm down a little, alright? We’re all safe, the kids are fine, we’re a couple of hours away from the bunker. It’s late, you guys go ahead and rest, I’ll wake you up when you’re there. We can talk tomorrow. We’ll need to buy food and- I don’t know, baby supplies? Does anybody know how to take care of a baby, anyway?”

“Yes,” Cas and Dean said at the same time. They looked at each other for a moment, both surprised that the other said yes.

“The letter- err- has a lot of tips,” Dean said, waving the letter in his hands, then folded it carefully and put it in his pocket.

“Great, instruction on how to raise gods, that’s useful,” Sam smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but the comment only gained a reproving look from the witch.

Only Rowena fell asleep during the ride. In an attempt to busy his mind with something other than the thought of Cas and him being together, the man went over the instructions and recommendations in the letter addressed to Bobby over and over again, until he memorised every word. He stroked Mary’s hair, trying to ground himself to reality as he focused on how soft her hair felt between his fingers. He wanted her to wake up, wanted to get to know her, yet the idea of facing his daughter was terrifying. It was like riding a roller coaster; you know it’s probably going to be fun in the end, but the slow rise of the machinery up and up towards the sky, is freaking terrifying. Castiel was dying to speak to Dean, but he knew better than do engage in such a delicate conversation with Sam there; no, this was a conversation they had to have on their own.

The ride felt both very short and extremely long, but before they knew it, they were back home. They closed the car’s doors rather gently to avoid waking the children, which was ironic because the roar of the Impala was way louder, but the little nephilim were used to it just like the adults were, and easily slept through it.

Cas told them to put the kids down in his bedroom; his bed already had clean sheets and he didn’t require to sleep anyway- Rowena laid Balthazar down with an uncharacteristic gentleness and the angel even saw smile in his direction, before she turned around and disappear to another room with Sam, who carried clean sheets for her bed. Dean laid Mary down next to her brother with the same tenderness as the witch, and he pulled a string of hair out of her face, then pulled the covers over his kids. They looked strangely still and Dean wondered if they were _really_ just fine, just tired.

The man stayed watching down over the children for a while, completely aware of the angel’s presence behind him. Dean knew that his friend was expecting to have some kind of discussion, but he found himself unable to turn around and meet his eyes. He felt frozen with embarrassment and fear, and tries to keep a straight face before he can turn around to face his friend.

“Dean...” Cas called gently when he didn’t say anything nor left. “I think we should… We should probably talk.”

Dean nodded mostly out of nervousness. He opened his mouth to speak but he found it dry and closed it again quickly. He turned around slowly, burying his hands on his pockets. Castiel watched every single movement he made with increasing anxiety. He could read his body language like he could read English, and he knew Dean didn’t want to have the conversation they really, _really_ should be having. “I- I know, but… It’s late, man. We need- I need to sleep. Okay?... Please?”

The effort he has to make to look up into Castiel’s eyes, in beyond him. Cas tries to maintain the best poker face he can produce, try to hide his disappointment, and nods. After all, it’s true; it’s very late and Dean is only human. Even Cas is tired.

“I can take Zep with me, if you want,” Dean offers, moving his hands towards the child, but Cas shakes his head and goes to sit in the chair in the corner of his room.

“It’s okay, Dean. I’ve got him. You should rest. We’ll talk later.”

Cas didn’t look at Dean again as he turned and walked towards the chair and Dean feels there’s something wrong; he was disappointing the angel somehow, he knew it, but he was too damn tired, too confused, to do the right thing and stay. So he simply nodded and mumbled something like goodnight, before closing the door of Cas’ bedroom and locking himself in his own.

Sitting alone in his room, Dean finally had the privacy he needed to panic.

He felt himself hyperventilating and tearing up with what was the second panic-attack in a very short period of time; he usually coped better with stress. After all, stress was his middle name. A wave of sadness and guilt washes over him. Something wrong, _so_ wrong. All these years, he’s done his best to keep the angel close but at a safe, comfortable distance. He’d built a strong friendship with the angel, had formed a special bond with him, had repeated the word ‘brother’ to define him until he believed that’s what he felt, and now everything was changing over night. And now the angel barely looked at him. Dean couldn’t help but wonder what he’d seen. What had gone differently in that universe that they ended up together? Why weren’t they together in this universe? Was Dean gay there? Was he gay _now_ ? He felt uncomfortable just thinking the word. Not wrong, not disgusted, just profoundly uncomfortable at defining himself with something he’d never considered. He didn’t like labels, he realised. But what if it didn’t depend on him? What if it was Castiel that was different? Maybe in this universe, Castiel didn’t want him like that, and Dean wasn’t even sure he _wanted_ him to.

He laid in the dark, over the sheets, fully clothed, and had to remind himself to fucking _breath_ and get his shit together, because he couldn't produce a single coherent thought lately. His heart and mind both wanted different, often opposed things and he fucking needed to reach a consensus, but not tonight. Sleep found him surprisingly fast, the exhaustion of worrying and running around for days plus crying finally catching up to him, and he was incredibly grateful to black out.

The angel wasn’t so lucky. He stayed up all night, watching his children asleep, paying attention to the sound of their breathing, trying to find peace in it, but all he saw was a close-up of Dean’s sleepy face in a distant memory.

The beautiful man bathed in sunlight that came through their bedroom window and smiled up at Cas. He counted the freckles in Dean’s face, memorised every shade of green in his eyes, smiled back, then lowered himself to kiss him.

Zeppelin woke up rather early and Cas followed the instructions his new memories provided to feed the baby with his grace. It was the weirdest feeling and at first it took some adjusting, it was kind of ticklish, but it didn’t feel wrong. There was something beautiful about his son growing stronger with his power. The baby looked up at Cas while he fed, his eyes green like a prairie in spring, and smiled a toothless, sincere smile. There was recognition in his eyes and his wings fluttered happily. For the first time, Cas chuckled.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

The baby kicked his feet and made a failed attempt to communicate through words, but Castiel’s smile only widened. Yes, Zeppelin knew who he was and he was utterly happy to see him. He didn’t need to talk to transmit his joy to Castiel and the fact that he was making his son so happy just be being present, made the angel all but melt. He’d never felt so loved, so _welcomed_.

“Did you miss my voice, son?” he spoke softly, then stood up and left the room to avoid waking the other children. He kept sweet talking his son until he ran into Sam in the kitchen.

“Oh, hey,” Sam greeted him. “How’s he doing?”

“Fine, we’re fine this morning,” Cas smiled, never raising his gaze from the boy, and he looked almost sincerely and entirely happy. Sam huffed a laugh, raising an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by the easiness with which he handled the baby.

“Wow, Cas, I’d never taken you as the paternal type,” Sam commented over his cup of coffee.

“I never thought of creating life, but… I see the appeal now. It’s nice to be loved so unconditionally.”

Sam shifted, a little saddened by the comment for some reason.

Had they not made him feel loved?

But before he could say anything, Cas went on. “Do you think you could give me a ride to the mall? I think he should get some things for the children. A crib, for starters, and some other things for the kids.”

“Oh, yeah, I was going to go for a groceries run. I was going to wait for Dean but-” the both looked at each other for a moment at the mention of Sam’s brother. Touchy subject, he guessed, and knew his brother most likely hadn’t gotten to talk about what this all meant for them with Cas last night… “I guess we could go, just you and me... and Zep.”

Cas nodded and followed him to the car a couple of minutes afterwards.

“So, Cas… Can I ask you something?” Sam started after a couple of minutes. He’d figured it was better now than later, while they were alone for a while, to try and tackle some answers out of Cas.

The angel didn’t know to ask to know what the younger Winchester wanted to talk about, so he simply nodded.

“When we met, I thought you and Dean-” he shifted, a little embarrassed. “But then nothing happened, and I just-” he sighed. He was making no sense. He’d gone over what he wanted to say last night in his head over and over again and now he’d practically just forgotten everything. “You know we love you too, don’t you?” he suddenly said. “You’re family. Always. Doesn’t matter what title you have- brother, father, lover- you’re my family. You’re Dean’s family.”

Castiel looked at him, taken aback by the sudden outburst of affection. It moved him deeply and he felt a wave of affection for Sam run through him.

Sam went on. “I don’t know what the universe is like, Cas, I’ve no idea what you saw, and if you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine. But if there’s any chance that Dean can be happy, after everything he’s been through-” Sam cut himself short. Castiel though it was funny Sam didn’t include himself in that.

Sam wondered if he should push the subject or not... Maybe he was playing with fire here, but if Dean still had the chance to have a family, and all he needed was a little push out of his comfort zone, Sam could do that for him... He'd kick his brother's ass in that direction, if that is what it took. If Cas felt the same way, of course...

“Do you… Do you love him, Cas?”

Zep filled the silence, cooing while he tried to stand in Castiel’s lap as his father held him by the waist. He looked back and forwards between the two men, smiling. Sam glanced at him once, and couldn’t help but smile. Damn, this was _Dean’s_ kid, how crazy was that?

“I do,” Cas answered after a while, and his voice was barely audible and almost sad.

“Then why didn’t you say anything? All these years-” Sam sighed.

“Come on, Sam, you know Dean. He’s not- he wouldn’t want me like that, you know that.”

“Well, apparently we were wrong,” he shrugged, laughing nervously. He can’t deny the thought of his brother with a man was a weird thing, but imagining his brother happy with three children was also weird, and Sam wanted that for him more than anything else in the world.

Cas sighed, not nearly as amused. “Maybe it’s too late for that. Too much has changed.”

“You love each other. I know you do. And that’s all you really need to start, isn’t it?”

Sam looked at him over the corner of his eye and gave him a encouraging smile, the hopeful, positive spirit of his taking over. Cas returned the smile but he didn’t feel half as confident. When they reach the mall, the conversation is temporarily forgotten.

Back in the bunker, Mary slowly regained consciousness. She stirred in the bed, half-awake, half-asleep, and sighed contently as she snuggled against the familiar presence of his brother. The bed was acceptably comfortable and the sheets were soft and warm. Mary almost allowed her mind to drift back into peaceful dreams when the events of the passed night slowly creep their way up her mind. At the vague memory of her father looking down at her, her eyes fly open and she sits up with a surprised gasp. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, and she blinks several times, then looks around the room that is very familiar.

 _The bunker_.

Her heart all but skips a bit with excitement. So it _hadn’t_ been a dream?

Mary jumped out of the bed, and Baltz only lazily rolled on the bed to hug the pillow and kept on sleeping. The girl’s heart beat fast as she opened the door and looked up and down the hallway.

“Hello? Dad?”

She felt almost embarrassed calling for him with such a weak, hopeful tone. She was half expecting the building around her to dissolve and probe she’d just been dreaming.

Mary walking down the hallway until she stood in the door she knew belonged to the bedroom their parents shared when they stayed in the bunker. She knocked, waited for a moment, and opened the door even though she hadn’t been invited.

In the bed laid her father, completely asleep. Tears of joy came to her eyes. She walked slowly towards him, her hands shaking, and she started to laugh nervously while a couple of tears ran down her face. Dean moved on the bed, somewhat alerted by the noise, and he rolled on the bed. His body was somehow conscious there was somewhere else in the room with him as she stood by the side of the bed.

“Daddy?” she called through sobs.

Dean opened his eyes, a little confused, to focus them on the child.

Mary smiled at him as she cried and Dean was stunned for a moment, like he’d almost forgotten about last night altogether. She hesitated; she wanted to badly to melt in his arms but this wasn’t _really_ her father, her brain reminded her, and she didn’t know if she was allowed to hug him. But as soon as Dean’s brain caught up with the situation, he sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed and brought the girl into a tight embrace.

“Mary, you’re okay!” he breathed out with relief, his voice sore.

Mary threw her arms around his neck and laughed, completely overcome with joy, but little by little, the sum of the past events caught up with her, and she started trembling with all the sadness she’s bottled up until then. Dean held her tightly, running a hand up and down her back.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe now,” he whispered into her ear.

His voice was familiar. He looked almost the same, but his soul- his soul was different, she realised. _Drastically_ different. What had _happened_ to him? There were dark stains of raw _anguish_ where there should be light, pools of regret where beauty used blind her on their happiest days. This wasn’t her father. This was some sad imitation, and it cruelly reminded her she didn’t belong hire, but she tried to hold on for just a little longer to the illusion that it was him, the man that had given life to her.

“Where were you? I waited for you!” she cried between sobs, her tone suddenly accusing. Dean would have preferred to be punched in the face than have his daughter look at him like he'd betrayed her.

“I waited for you," she repeated, although a part of her that was smart knew it wasn't _this_ Dean's fault, "and grandpa Bobby wasn’t there like you said he would- and I- I was alone, I didn’t know what to do, and I got _hurt_. Where _were_ you?”

Dean pulled away to look at her. He cupped her face in his big hands and wiped her tears away. He hated to see her face twisting with sadness.

“I’m sorry, Mary. You were hidden from us, the sigils in your ribs… Cas couldn’t find you.”

 _Of course_ , she thought, suddenly feeling extremely naive and stupid. _Because he’s not my real papa, we’re not connected. You’re not my real father either._

Mary clenched her jaw tightly and held Dean’s arms with so much force, it pained him. The light bulbs from the lamp and the ceiling light suddenly burst, causing Dean to jump.

“Where’s grandpa Bobby?” she demanded to know. She feared the answer, but she had to know.

“Mary, in this universe…” Dean swallowed and shook his head. Mary begun to shake.

“He’s dead, isn’t it? And we don’t live in Lawrence, do we? Why not?” she sobbed.

Dean sighed. “Things are a little different here, alright?”

“I don’t like this universe! I want to go back home! Take me back!” she demanded.

“You know you can’t go back, not yet, Mary,” Dean said. He was becoming increasingly distressed himself. This wasn’t at all how he’d wanted his first encounter with the girl to go. He’d imagined something different, something naively sweeter. “You have to stay with us for a while. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Mary was crying uncontrollably, her grace threatening to expand any moment now.

“Mary, look at me, _look at me_ ,” Dean said, forcing her chin up, ignoring how her grip around her arms hurt. Mary opened her eyes, just barely, to look at him. “I know I’m not your father, not _really_ . But I _will_ protect you with my life, okay? And I- I will always love you, in all universes. Okay? Because that’s what family does. Family doesn’t end in blood. I’ll be yours, in _every_ universe.”

She blinked hard at the words. She remembered her real dad saying something similar the last time she’d seen him, before they’d crossed to this universe. “ _I love you_ ,” he’d said. “ _I will always love you, in all universes._ ” How could he have known? How could he have used the same words? They seemed so different, yet they core of them was made of the same good stuff she admired her dad for.

“I know you can’t just pretend I’m your dad, and I know you’re probably scared to death, but just take a deep breath and try to calm down, alright? Just breath, for a moment,” he told her. Truth is, he needed to breath too. He’s just woken up to a disastrous first interaction with his goddamn _angel daughter_. He took a deep breath through his mouth and let it out through his nose. He repeated the sequence a couple of times, and Mary tried her best to concentrate in her breathing. If she lashed out and accidentally hurt him, that’d just make everything worse. Dean offered her a small smile. “That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it, just breath.”

His smile was accompanied by something lighting up in his soul. It ached to protect her and she saw the love burning furiously in it, whether he was aware of it or not was a whole other matter. It gave her hope; he _was_ good, even behind all the pain he was still the good man she knew her dad to be. He was capable of goodness and love. She felt terribly guilty for hoping, for the slightest moment, that this Dean could replace her Dean, because she desperately needed him, and just couldn’t help herself.

Her grip on his arms softened and she closed the space between them again, burying her face in his chest. Strong arms hugged her again and Dean sighed as he laid his head on top of hers.

“Now, trust me, I know this universe is _far_ from perfect,” Dean laughed humorlessly, “but we’ve got each other and that’s all that matters. So just… Let’s take it one step at the time, okay?” he sighed. His stomach had an idea. “Hey… What do you say we make some waffles, huh? I bet you’re hungry.”

Mary wiped her tears away with the back of her hands. “You make waffles?”

“Oh, kiddo, I will most likely make waffles in _every_ universe,” his dad laughed. Mary smiled weakly; that sounded like her dad. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge him, there was a lot of potential in him, maybe his pain could be washed away... He stood up and took her hand. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s make some breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users): acklesjensen ; hunchesters ; karmaplus ; guardianangelcastiel ; goobey01 ; fandomnationwhore ; aborddelimpala ; samwinchesterblog


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Finals are cominggg, I'm trying to update as much as I can as I also try not to do all my assignments at the very last minute, which I always failed not to do.  
> Thank you all for reading, the comments, the kudos, I really appreciate it!  
> I hope you enjoy this one.

"Get the eggs and milk," Dean commanded Mary as he opened the pantry to get the rest of the condiments. The started mixed things in a bowl, allowing the girl to help him throw things in here and there. Mary moved shyly around him, like she was testing the waters, glancing at Dean's soul now and then discretely, learning all the places where his soul was different from her real father's. Dean smiled down at her, lighting up momentarily, and it reminded her very much of her dad. She smiled back and watched as Dean put the mix in a hot pan. One, two, three waffles were made... Dean made them jump out of the pan with a flip which was meant to be impressive, but the girl had watched him do it a dozen times already, though Dean didn't know it, and then Mary covered them so they wouldn't get cold. Somewhere during the fourth one, Cas and Sam arrived. His brother had left him a message saying they were going out and Dean was thankful to him for distracting Cas a little. Dean had had already a lot to deal with that morning with his daughter's meltdown to deal with the angel and the inevitable and uncomfortable conversation he knew was going to come their way eventually. Cas knew, he held all the answers as to how they had landed themselves in what was probably the weirdest situation in their entire lives, and that's saying something coming from him.

Many things happened all at once when the angel entered the kitchen.

Dean felt something tug at his stomach when Cas entered the room with the baby boy in his arms, smiling happily down at his son, like he didn't have a care in the world. He looked perfectly comfortable with the boy in his arms and made no attempt to even help Sam set up the baby's high chair he was dragging in a box. He wouldn't have even purchased it if Sam hasn't insisted he was sure it was necessary. Cas could carry the boy in his arms until he started to walk, though he figured that kind of attachment wouldn't be good for his son's development. But the moment Dean said a very shy 'hey' in Castiel's direction, the baby turned his head around looking for the source of that voice. He knew that voice, it was one of his favourite things in the whole world. When Zeppelin laid eyes on Dean, he smiled broadly and shrieked in delight, bouncing in Castiel's arms and reaching towards his other dad with his own. A couple of light bulbs in the kitchen exploded as the boy laughed happily and his grace danced around the room, filled with joy. Dean started and jumped back for a moment, but Castiel was advancing towards him and passed the baby on to him without saying a word. Zep grabbed onto Dean's t-shirt like his life depended on it and started babbling incoherently, fidgeting playfully in his arms. Sam sighed and went to get new light bulbs.

"Hey, buddy," Dean laughed, looking down at the baby with amazement. He'd never had a child be that thrilled to see him, it was heartwarming. "What's got you so excited?"

"He's missed you," Cas stated solemnly, smiling tenderly at the both of them, then turned to look down at Mary. The expression in her face made his smile falter.

Mary had been holding her breath in anticipation the moment she'd heard her father's and her uncle's voices echoing through the bunker when they arrived. She couldn't wait to see him, despite her nerves, but the moment he walked into the room, she gasped at the horrifying state of his father's grace. His wings looked broken, burnt, and there were too many feathers missing. They didn't function anymore, of that she was sure. This too was a poor copy of her real father. What the hell had happened to him??? How did he get to this point? Her real father's grace was perfection, a liquid multidimensional power that was unmeasurable, and only got stronger through the years as his children's grace grew and fed his in an endless loop. They were connected, forever, and while the children's powers developed, Castiel could feel it echoing through their bond all the way to his own grace. This grace before her... It was an angel all right, but weak, exhausted and very humanly broken.  
When Cas looked down at her, it was with loving eyes, but his kindness dissolved a little into worry at the expression of sadness in her face.

"Papa, what happened to you?" she blurted out in a breathless whisper before she could stop herself, a hand reaching towards the scarred wings the Winchester brothers couldn't see it.

Cas swallowed the thick lump in his throat. A part of him had always been glad his companions were blind to the real state of her grace. For some reason, it was easier for him to ignore the deplorable state of his true self if it remained hidden from those who walked among him, but these children... They could see him, the real him, and saw each and every scar in his damaged grace. They saw what he truly was: nothing but the ghost of an angel.

Dean and Sam looked back and forth between them, and then at each other, wondering what they were missing.

Cas placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and once again smiled with nothing but love. "It's nothing to worry about, Mary. I'm okay."

"But your wings-"

"It doesn't hurt, I promise. They've been like these for a long time, I'm used to it," Cas tried to shrug it off, decided he didn't see the look of sudden understanding and pity if Dean's eyes. About everyone in the room knew the easiness with which he dismissed his fall was a lie, but neither Sam or Dean knew how honestly and deeply Cas missed his grace, his home in Heaven. Despite it all, his brethren were his family and he had not turned his back on them without a heavy heart. He'd made his choice and he was at peace with it, but the roller coaster of mistakes and fuck-ups that followed, that cut deep. And now Mary could see all of it.

Lost in his excitement, Zep kicked Dean in the ribs a little too hard.

"Ouch," Dean held the baby a little further away from him. Castiel was glad to have the attention switching to the baby instead. Then to the smell of burning waffles. "Damn. Cas, hold him?"

Cas was grateful to have the heavy weight of his boy back in his arms; it felt somewhat comforting, like he was carrying his personal, little source of happiness. He turned on his heels to sit in a chair and Mary followed him, too stunned to look away, until Dean called her to ask for the plate of done waffles, tl add a new one to the pile.

“Hey, Mary, why don't you sit?” Sam offered her as he headed to the fridge to put away the many bags of food they'd bought. “Would you like some juice with those waffles? Or milk?”

“She likes tea,” Cas responds for her, correctly to the girl’s surprised. “Could I have some coffee, please?”

“Sure, Cas.”

Mary took a seat in front of Cas and eyes him curiously. At least Zep seemed at total ease with the copy of their father. He either noticed no difference, or was too young to comprehend or care for the change in their father’s grace. He was just excited to see those familiar faces again. He already felt like home.

“How did you know I like tea?” she asked.

“Your father… He sent me a letter, so to speak. He sent memories to me. I know all I need to know to take care of you.”

“Did he send something for me?” Mary asked, sitting in the edge if her chair.

Cas opened his mouth to speak but Dwan beat it to it. “No,” he lied. “Sorry, kid. It was just instructions to care for you and your brothers.”

The angel frowned at him while Dean leant down and put a waffle in front of him, but said nothing; Dean's eyes told him not to. Add that to the list of things they had to discuss, he thought.

Before Mary had time to be suspicious, Balthazar walked in. He was rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand, dragging his feet as he walked, yawning. He sniffed the air around the mood and smiled at the familiar smell of waffles.

“Are there any waffles for me?” he asked to no one in particular as he made a beeline for Cas. He sat right next to him and leant his head on the angel’s arm, eyes still half closed, petting his baby brother on the head twice. The angel smiled and Mary watched them interact with a bit of jealousy and caution. She wanted to feel as comfortable with these copies of their parents as her brothers were, wanted to lean on Cas too and let him love her like their papa did, but she felt guilty too, like it was her job to keep mourning the absence of the _real_ them. She didn't want to forget them, to let this comfortable option replace them. These people were only a temporary replacement and she felt like she was cheating every time she let herself feel for them half the affection she had for her parents.

“Yes, sir. Nothing like waffles to start the day properly, am I right?” Dean told him, making another waffle jump out of the pan and into a plate that he put in front of Baltz.

The boy smiled sheeply. “Yes. Thanks, dad.”

Dean froze for a moment at that last word. He just couldn't get used to it, or to the expression in Castiel’s face when he heard it too. The angel was smiling at him, with both shyness and sadness, for reasons he couldn’t understand, and Dean looked away quickly and sat as far from him as possible, even though Sam had left him a spot right next to him. Dean’s strange reaction didn't go unnoticed to Mary, unlike Baltz who could concentrate in nothing but his waffle, biting into it and sighing contently. She eyed the two of them over the corner of her eyes, meeting eyes with Sam occasionally. His soul was different too, but less so. He still had the same amount of hope and that positive attitude that had always characterised him and it was a bit of a relief, though there was a lot of happiness missing in him too.

"Go easy on the waffles, okay, Baltz?" Cas said as he watched Baltz grab not one but two waffles after he'd quickly finished the first one.

"Grandpa Bobby always says dad tries to win Balthazar over by giving him diabetes," Mary commented with a smile and Dean snorted and started to laugh, his mouth full of waffles. Well, if the kid was any like himself, a sweet tooth had to be included in his defining characteristics. 

“Should I wake Rowena?” Sam asked as waffles were passed around. If they kept eating like this, there would be no breakfast left for the witch. But the question seemed to kill whatever merry mood they had been carefully nesting. Mary looked up at him surprised at even the mention of the witch, and Dean’s face dropped in a similar way; _Rowena_ , having breakfast with them, like she was a part of the family? What the hell was he thinking?

Cas could see Dean tensing up and wanted to slap Sam on the back on his head, but he was out of reach. _Way to kill the mood_ , he thought.

“Oh, no,” Baltz spoke with a full mouth, oblivious to the sudden bad vibes. “She prefers to sleep until lunch. She says she needs her beauty sleep when you're old like her.”

“I can't believe you are friends with an evil witch,” Mary snapped at her brother, then turned to her parents. “Why is she even still here?”

“She helped us find you,” Cas responded patiently. Dean had to admit he agreed with the same line of thought as Mary, but Cas sounded grateful and the man figured he was more on Balthazar’s side in this matter.

“Yes, and she's not evil!” Balthazar frowned at Mary.

“Well…” Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't like the way Baltz was pouting at him, daring him to go on, but he didn't want the boy to keep that image of the witch; it could be dangerous, if she turned on them. Which had a tendency of happening.

“She's done… some really bad things,” Dean chose his words carefully while he addressed the boy.

“You've said sometimes good people do bad things,” Balthazar knelt on his chair, leaning on the table. “Like the time you freed the devil.”

Sam blinked several times, completely taken aback, and looked at his brother for support, but Dean was dumbstruck too. What could he possible say to that? _Technically_ , Baltz was right.

“How do you even know that?” Mary asked through narrowed eyes. “Have you been eavesdropping on my history lessons with uncle Sam?”

Balthazar looked away and folded his arms over his chest. A rush of red in his cheeks gave him away. “No.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Baltz! You're not supposed to know that! You'll learn in due time, you have to be patient! Right?” she turned to Castiel. He stared dumbly at her for a moment, then turned to Dean for help. Dean just shrugged, not even knowing which point of the argument he should address first. The angel sighed, annoyed by the complete lack of help coming from the man. 

“You're right, we've done bad things, Baltz,” Sam said. “But we were doing it for good reasons.”

“Or so we thought,” Cas challenged him. Dean actually ran a hand down his face and if looks could kill. Cas was actually getting pissed off now; Dean was barely even looking at him that morning, but he dared hold his gaze when he was mad because the angel spoke the truth?

“What? It’s true," the angel said. "We haven’t always been right, but we meant well.”

“Well, Rowena doesn’t _mean well_ , Cas.”

“Exactly!” Mary pointed at Dean while she looked at Balthazar with a triumphant look.

“Daddy also always says everyone’s capable of doing good!” Baltz yelled at her. “She helped you heal, and she’s nice to me! You’re not kicking her out!”

Balthazar banged his fists against the table angrily, causing every plate and cup to shake. Zeppelins started and begun to cry.

“Wow, wow, easy, there, Balthazar,” Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, calm down, son, nobody’s kicking anyone out, okay? Just- don’t break the furniture, okay?”

Dean rubbed the back of Baltz’s head tenderly and smiled at him. The boy leant to the touch, suddenly too aware that it was the first time Dean was touching and looking at him like he really knew him. It made the boy hungry for more affection.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and sat back on the chair.

“We’re all off to a rocky start today,” Dean said with a sigh. He looked at Mary, who very reluctantly looked up at him. She still wasn’t thrilled about the witch staying just because Balthazar was being a baby about it. “How about we do something fun, relax a little? We can- I don’t know, what do you do for fun? Go to the park, or to the movies?”

“Balthazar’s not allowed in the park yet,” Cas reminded him.

“Oh, come on, he’s, what? Almost 6?” Dean shrugged. “We’ll just keep him away from anything that’s too high for him to play in, or other children.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas narrowed his eyes as he patted Zep’s back, trying to comfort him, “if he so much as loses control for a _second_ , he could accidentally _kill_ someone.”

“Oh, no, papa, I won’t lose control, I promise!” the boy was on his knees again on the chair. “I want to go to the park!”

Cas sighed, genuinely annoyed with Dean; way to make him look like the bad guy.

“Balthazar, you lose your control like once a day,” Mary told him, though her tone was a little softer now; she knew just how much the boy wanted to go out into the world, she’d been through that herself, but they couldn’t risk it, _especially_ with this weakened Castiel. “And, anyway, we wouldn’t all fit in the car. By the way, where are we?"

The rest exchanged confused glances.

"We're.... in the bunker?," Dean told her.

"No, I mean where are _we_?" she gestured between her brothers and herself. "Aren't there supposed to be a copy of us in this universe?"

"Oh," Dean sat back, relieved the kid wasn't having some kind of stroke but a little uncomfortable for what he knew would inevitably follow. "No, not in this universe."

"What?" Mary jumped off her chair, eyes wide with horror. "You mean we don't _exist_?"

"You don't have us? Why not? Don't you _want_ us?" Balthazar brought a hand to his chest dramatically and looked back and forth between his parents, already tearing up.

Balthazar's grace twisted with confusion and pain, swaying dangerously towards Dean, and Cas moved his own grace to stand protectively between Dean and the boy. But before it could so much as touch Dean’s soul, it retreated.

"It's not that at all, son, we love you," Cas assured him. "Things here are just... different. Some things haven't happened."

"You mean _we_ haven't happened," Mary said, raising her voice in anger, looking back and forth between her parents. "You're not even together, are you?" Mary was tearing up again as well. Dean blushed furiously and anchored his eyes on hers when he felt Castiel staring at him. Sam just looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him. "That's right, I can tell. You haven’t kissed all morning- you’ve barely even _looked_ at papa! And you have a big, ugly void in your soul where your love and all your memories with him are stored!”

Balthazar widened his eyes and turned around to properly analyze Dean’s soul. He hadn’t studied it that thoroughly, but now he knew what he was looking for, he could indeed see the lack of affection that had this man’s soul aching. It made him profoundly unhappy.

“You’re not together?” he sobbed in a high pitched voice. “Why? Don't you love each other?”

He ran over all the million memories he had of their parents and Dean was rarely anything but radiant in them. Why _wouldn’t_ they be together? They _belonged_ together! To think that everything he knew, everything he remember- everything he _was_ didn’t exist in this universe, because these two weren’t together, it confused him and saddened him.

Dean turned to Sam for help but his brother was looking down, with a severe poker face. He really didn't want to get in the middle of their fight, and it was affecting him already as it was, just by being present. Watching the children crumbling down as they realised their family didn't exist wasn't exactly _fun_. And knowing none of the men in front of him were going to answer the boy's question sincerely, was something painful to witness.

The oldest Winchester locked eyes with Cas for a moment and was surprised to see he looked nearly just as troubled as his kids.

“We do,” he spoke very softly, very slowly, running a hand through Balthazar’s hair, “just… not in that way.”

There was silence for a moment. The words went around and around in Dean’s mind, and it felt like a fucking stab in the gut. _We do, just not in that way. Not in that way. Not in that way. Not in that way…_ To think it in the privacy of his mind was one thing, but to actually _hear it_ coming from Castiel, was a fucking terrible catastrophe. It sounded _wrong_ , so painfully wrong.

Zep looked around, confused at the way everyone’s soul had suddenly shrunken in on themselves, something he associated with sadness or fights. He didn’t like it, and he became uneasy in the angel’s arms again. Balthazar just sat there, feeling more miserable than when he was travelling around without them, taking in the information slowly. He felt like someone had died; his entire idea of how the universe should be was crumbling down. The one certain thing he understood above all, the love his parents had for each other, which to him was as natural as the sun coming up every day, was suddenly not true anymore. Absolutely nothing made sense to him anymore.

Mary had had enough, and the tears in her eyes were piling up as fast as her disappointment. She didn’t want to burst in tears in the kitchen like a little girl (although, she _was_ a little girl).

“This universe _sucks_!" Mary mumbled angrily and stormed off.

“Mary!” Dean got up but Sam grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

“Let her go, Dean,” he told Dean softly.

Dean sat back down, looking after where Mary had disappeared, feeling absolutely terrible. How had everything gone so bad so soon?

Balthazar started to cry silently. He got off his chair, walked over to Dean and hugged him. He wanted to fill the gap in Dean’s soul with all his might, but nothing could ever replace the mountains of adoration that used to be in that usually happy, playful soul. This was a cruel, ugly universe. Everyone was more miserable here, and he had no idea how to make it right.

Dean picked the boy up to sit him in his lap and put his arms around him. He tried to convince himself the only source of ache in his chest was seeing the kids so sad.

“It’s alright, son, let it out,” he said while he very ironically bottled up his own feelings like a good Winchester. “Just know that this changes nothing… We will take care of you all the same.”

“It ch-changes _everything_ ,” he sobbed. And it did, Balthazar’s world was upside down.

Dean sighed and rubbed Balthazar’s back slowly.

“I don’t know what to say… I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry we’re not as good as your real parents.”

“You’re not _bad…_ You’re just- this story is so _sad_.”

“I know, son, but… _You_ make us happier, okay? We love to have you here. So, just give it time, alright? We all just need to adjust,” he whispered, then kissed the top of his head and looked down at him with the best fake smile he could conjure. Balthazar didn’t look convinced.

Then Dean remembered reading something about the boy enjoying driving around and singing with Dean when he was sad.

“Hey, what do you say you and me go for a ride, huh? Listen to some songs, get some ice-cream maybe?”

Now that he thought about it, maybe Bobby was right about him giving the kids diabetes if in their first day together he was pampering them with waffles and ice-cream...

Balthazar hiccuped, but looked up with a little interest behind the fat tears that rolled down his cheek. He nodded.

“Go wash your face, I’ll wait for you in the car, alright?”

It took Balthazar a while to loosen up and sing along while they drove around down, but in the end Dean got to him. Occasionally he’ll turn around to wink at his son or rattle the boy’s dark hair, and all the right spots in his soul would light up with affection. He put up a good show for the boy, pretended he was fine and having fun until, for moment, he was.

Dean sometimes caught the boy staring at him and he wondered if he was still looking at his soul. He was. Balthazar didn't’ feel put off by it’s darkest tones like Mary did; if anything, he pitied this Dean. Baltz saw its darkness as a prelude of the sunrise, as an opportunity to shine. He wanted to make the man happy, and if, like Dean had said, they made him happier, maybe all they needed was a baby that was _really_ theirs, one they could keep when they left.

So when the two of them returned to the bunker for lunch, Balthazar went to get his sister, who was alone in Cas’ bedroom, listening to music with his walkman while she stared at nothing in particular in the ceiling. She’d stopped crying a while ago, but she still felt miserable. She was angry at her real parents for sending her to this awful universe, and with this version of her parents for messing up their lives so badly.

“Mary… Lunch’s ready.”

Balthazar crawled up to the bed and laid beside her. He knew exactly how she felt, so he grabbed her hand and laid with her in silence for a moment. Eventually, Mary sighed and took the headphones off. She felt rather embarrassed for ther previous outburst and was still too upset to join the others and pretend everything was okay, but she’d barely had any breakfast and she was starving now.

“Okay, let’s go,” she ordered the boy, but Balthazar stayed in the bed.

“Wait, I wanted to ask you something… How can I make a baby?”

Mary blinked a couple of times, then shifted in her place. “Hmm, well… You can’t. Yet, anyway,” she mumbled feeling terribly uncomfortable.

“Why not?”

“Hmm, well... Only adults can make babies, Baltz... Why?”

“Well, I was thinking… Papa and dad would be a lot happier in they had babies, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Baltz…” Mary sighed and sat in the bed again, placing her hand over his. “You can’t force people to be happy. You can’t save everyone. It’s not your job to make everyone happy, do you understand that?”

The girl thought maybe know she understood why Dean didn’t like Heaven’s influence on his kid. Baltz was very impressionable and eager to please, and now he thought it was up to him to fix everything wrong with the world and the boy would find nothing with disappointment setting the bar so high from childhood.

"But what if we're here for a reason? Maybe we're supposed to help them, show them how to be happy."

"Balthazar, this isn't all part of God's plan! Grandpa left a long time ago! This is just the devil ruining everything, as usual!"

“The devil?” Baltz repeated, a little scared.

Mary’s face fell; she wasn’t _supposed_ to tell him about the devil, he’d freak out.

“I- n- it was just a saying,” she shrugged casually. “Anyway,” she continued to make him forget any mention of Lucifer as quickly as possible, “you can’t magically make them happy.”

"It’s not magic, it’s love! We could help them fall in love! They belong together, you know they do. They'd be happy if they were together. Maybe we're here to show them that."

The girl sighed and watched him for a moment. She felt a little envious that he could stay so hopeful, even through all the crap they’d gone through in the last weeks. Balthazar found meaning for everything through purpose, when Mary only felt stuck and helpless.

“Come on, help me,” Balthazar dragged his words in a plea, poking her arm playfully. “If they have a girl, you’ll have the sister you’ve always wanted! Don’t you want them to be happy?”

She didn’t have to think about her answer. “Of course I do. But it’s not up to us, Baltz. And it wouldn’t be our sister, not really. They’re not _really_ our parents, you have to understand that too.”

Balthazar looked away with sadness.

“Oh, no, come on, don’t do that,” she sighed and put an arm around him. “I just- I'm trying to look out for you, okay? I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get disappointed.”

“I’m already disappointed,” he mumbled. “We’re angels, we’re _supposed_ to guide people.”

Mary ran a hand down her face in a very Dean sort of way. He listened to what angels told him too much, he’d always loved their attention.

“You aren’t going to give up on this, are you?”

Balthazar smiled. “No. I’m gonna make them fall in love, with or without your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (gif): codestielckles ; castieledits ; hallowedbecastiel ; songofthecagedmoose ; hunterchesters ; ahoyspn ; deanjackles ; frozen-delight ; acklesjensen


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! How are you all doing? I feel like I haven't posted in forever but the website says I posted on Tuesday. That feels kinda crazy for me.  
> Anyway!  
> Thank you guys for sticking around, I love your comments and appreciate your kudos and support <3  
> Do yourselves a favor and visit the gif sources I leave at the bottom of the page, they're great!

Mary wasn't thrilled to have the witch join them for lunch but she wasn't going to cause another scene. She didn't want to gain the reputation of whiny brat, so she simply sat far away from the witch and avoided looking in her direction as much as she could. Balthazar, in the other hand, sat right next to Rowena, almost as if to balance the girl's negative vibes.

When Sam filled their plates with vegetables and grilled chicken, Dean sighed internally; _healthy food_ , an inevitable part of parenthood, finally catching up with him. He couldn't have fries and expect the kids to have carrots, he'd have to adjust to the new diet. It didn't help that Sam was glowing, rejoicing in finally having control in the food choices in their home. Maybe now Dean wasn't going to die of a heart attack at 50, he hoped.

Cas need not eat, though he took some bites of Sam’s grilled chicken because he really liked it, but he was mostly concentrated in feeding Zep.

"Open," he instructed the baby, who simply looked at him with innocent eyes. The angel waited, but Zep’s toothless smile only widened, the baby delighted with the attention he was receiving.

Mary and Baltz looked at each other, half-laughing at Cas.

"Do the airplane thing, he likes it," Baltz advised him. He poked his chicken and played around with it a little, until Rowena gave him a look that told him to get it over with and eat it.

"Airplane," Castiel said dryly and moved the spoon in front of the baby’s face. He felt ridiculous. Zep almost slapped the spoon out of his hand and Dean joined the children with a laugh of his own.

"More human, less robot, Cas," Dean instructed , suppressing laughter as he watched the angel's every moment with attention and affection in his eyes.

Cas sighed. "Come on, son. Open, please?"

Mary shook her head. "Zep," she called, then opened her mouth in a big ‘o’ when her brother turned to look at her. Zep mimicked her and Cas stuck the spoon inside his mouth quickly, only to have Zep spill out half of the food with a clumsy roll of his tongue. Some of it rolled down his chin and fell on his onesie. He laughed and banged his little fists on the highchair. Cas groaned and the rest laughed under their breaths.

"Babies are messy," Cas concluded, and indeed went through several of his borrowed memories, all showing messy feeding times when it came to Zep. Half his face would end up covered in weird-looking mixes of baby food and saliva.

"Don’t sweat it, Cas, I'll give him a shower later," Dean shrugged, going through his own memories of a young, messy Sam, before adding more shyly, "you're doing great."

Dean's soul lit up briefly when Cas smiled a silent ‘thanks’ to him, before he looked down at his food with a smile of his own.

Balthazar snapped his head to smile smugly at his sister, with a ‘ _see? I'm right’_ -kind of victorious look about him. And though Mary rolled her eyes at him, she couldn't deny she'd seen it too. It was the faintest of desires, a shy shadow of all the love Dean was capable of feeling. It was there, like wood in the chimney waiting to be set ablaze, the possibility of love. But then why didn't they love each other already? What was stopping them?

"Papa," Mary started curiously. She felt slightly weird calling this Castiel 'papa', but calling him by his name would be even weirder. "I was wondering... You know where our universes went different ways, don't you?"

Cas swallowed. It wasn't exactly a discussion to have with kids over lunch.

"Hmm... I do."

Everyone remained silent as they expected him to go on. Even Dean was staring at him with curiosity. This was the moment they all had been waiting for.

"I- the difference- I don't think it's an appropriate topic for children," he said, nodding his head in the kids' direction. "It was a long time ago, anyway."

"Okay, but come on, which are the _main_ differences?" Dean asked, mouth full of chicken. He made a side note to not show how good the goddamn bird actually tasted with the grilled onions and peppers.

"You mean apart from us mating?"

Dean choked in his food momentarily, blushing furiously. Sam nearly burst out laughing.

“Jesus, Cas! Language!” he hissed, pointing at Balthazar with his fork. The kid only laughed. “Keep it PG, man.”

"Well... I never took the souls from Purgatory,” Cas revealed, any threads of good mood starting to evaporate from him. “The leviathans didn't break free, so we never went to Purgatory. That's the first main difference, apart from the obvious. It all changes from there."

Mary and Baltz looked at each other for a moment, both a little shaken; they didn't know much about Purgatory but they knew enough to know it wasn't a _nice_ place; it was where monsters went when they died. If their parents ended up there, it could definitely explain some of the darkness in them…

Dean could tell Sam was about to say something stupid like _‘that explains why Bobby is alive’_ , and knowing Balthazar didn't know his grandfather was dead in this universe, the minute Sam opened his mouth to speak, he interrupted him. "But then how you beat Raphael?"

"Uncle Balthazar offered to take the souls instead of dad," Mary answered before Cas, proud to know the answer to at least one question. "He put them back in Purgatory but, well… It killed him."

"Oh..." Dean sat back, quickly revisiting the memories of the angel. He had grown fond of him, _very_ deep down, towards the end. He’d helped them, rather reluctantly mostly, but he had answered when most had forsaken the brothers. It was hard to believe though, that he would have gone _that_ far to save them. Cas shifted in his seat with an incredible sense of guilt; his friend would have given his own life to allow Cas to go back to his daughter, and he'd paid him with a backstab in this universe.

"So, how did it happen here?" Mary asked.

"I... I took the souls," Cas confessed with shame, suddenly busying himself with Zep again. "It didn't go very well."

Dean sighed. "Cas... It was a long time ago, man. Let it go."

"I know, but... It caused a lot of trouble for us."

"Yeah, but we're fine now, so... Come on, there's gotta be something that wasn't our fault."

Cas thought for a moment. "Well… I guess Abaddon wasn't our fault. That happened almost exactly in the same way, except you didn’t get the Mark of Cain. I borrowed part of Mary’s grace and killed her.”

"Aha! Finally something's not our fault," Dean laughed and and took a bite of his vegetables. He tried to not shudder at the memory of the Knight of Hell and what it had meant for him to defeat her.

Cas wanted to smile back at him but the guilt still burning deeply inside him, like raging fire, doesn't allow him to do more than nod.

The amount of pain his stupid decision had caused was _massive_. If it weren't for him, Dean would have never been to Purgatory. He wouldn't have carried the mark of Cain, turned into a Knight of Hell or released the darkness. His brethren wouldn't have fallen, and they would have kept peace with humans. Bobby wouldn't have died. Neither would have Kevin, nor his mother, or Charlie. They wouldn’t have even met her, she’d be living a normal life. He'd be on full power, able to aid Dean on hunts a lot more, saving people faster and more efficiently, without the Winchester brothers having to suffer much in the process. So much death, so much pain, and it was all his fault.

In an attempt to spare Cas from answering any more questions that clearly made him uncomfortable, Sam cleared his throat and changed the subject before anyone asked anything else on the matter. Instead, he turned Mary and asked, "so, Mary, you go to school?"

Mary nodded. "Grandpa convinced dad to let me start when I was 8, but you homeschooled me before that. And you still do, in some things I can't learn at school, for obvious reasons."

"I teach you?" Sam smiled. He’d always liked the idea of teaching, he loved sharing knowledge. "Really? That's cool. What do I teach you?"

"Before school, you taught me the basics, like math, how to write... Now you teach me history of the supernatural mostly, the basics about monsters-"

" _Creatures_ ," Balthazar corrected her. Mary just rolled her eyes. "They're not monsters until they do something bad!" he insisted.

"Okay, okay!" the girl lifted her hands up in surrender, then turned to Sam again, "you teach me the basics about other _creatures_."

"Why would he do that?" Dean asked. "Aren't you too young to know about mons- creatures?"

"Well, technically, we aren't human either, so..." Mary shrugged.

"They already know there are other types of creatures out there, Dean, there's no point keeping it a secret from them," Cas explained, easily finding an explanation in his memories; they've already had this conversation, in another universe.

"Then why can't I learn too?" Baltz frowned up at his father.

"Because it gives you nightmares, son," the angel rubbed his back lovingly. Balthazar blushed.

"Not anymore!"

"Because you've _stopped_ learning about them," Mary pointed out, not smugly because she knew how annoying it was to be kept in the dark, but rather gently.

The boy sighed and shrunk in his seat. "I'm not allowed to do _anything_ ," he complained.

"I wasn't at your age either, Baltz," Mary said softly, giving his brother a small smile. "You will soon."

The boy didn't care. He crossed his arms and sighed. Rowena ran a hand through his hair. "Little commander, you're immortal. There's going to be time for you to learn all those things. Have a little patience, love."

Baltz looked up up at her and watched her inner light escape through the cracks on dark that clouded her soul. It gave him hope that he could change her, _save_ her, and caused a small smile to rise to his lips, for a reason she ignored. Mary and Cas saw the light too, and stared at it with a little surprise and disbelief. Dean couldn't understand what they were staring at, so he simply cleared his throat and announced there was pie for dessert. That completely distracted the children from any previous preoccupations, and even Mary bounced in her chair with excitement.

"Really? What flavor?" she asked with a wide grin. Dean felt a span of affection and pride at their reaction; yeah, they were _his_ children all right, that was _all_ Dean.

"Blueberry."

"Yes," Mary closed her eyes and threw her hands in the air in a gesture of victory.

Cas couldn't help but smile, but then sighed. "Really, Dean? We had waffles for breakfast."

"Oh, come on, Cas, they're angels, I doubt high cholesterol can kill them," Dean shrugged not without a cheeky grin as he took the pie out of the fridge with extreme care.

"No, but it will kill _you_ ," Sam mumbled, gaining a deadly look from his brother, but he just huffed a laugh and looked away.

"That's hardly the point," Cas said. "Sam and I are officially in charge of meals plans."

"Oh, _come on_ ," Dean sunk into this chair, pouting like a little boy, while Sam smiled triumphantly. He’d been waiting for this moment for years. Being a hunter cut your life span a bunch of years, but Dean’s eating habits were a huge threat as well.

After lunch, Castiel offered Balthazar to keep helping him practise with his grace; the sooner he learned to control it, the better. Mary joined them while Sam and Rowena watched from the sofa as the celestial beings sat in the floor in a triangle, facing each other. Cas gave instructions, starting with simple movements of their wings that Mary copied perfectly, though slightly distracted by the terrible shape of her papa's own wings. He seemed to struggle with every moment, like it hurt. Baltz had a little more difficulty following his movements, but Mary thought he'd improved since they had arrived to this universe. At least now he didn’t lose balance when he moved his wings, but his grace still remained extremely linked to his soul.

Dean finished the dishes and took baby Zep out of his highchair and into his arms, walking pass the rest of them on their way to the bathroom. He gave Mary a shy smile before walking away. In the bathroom, he let the bathtub fill with a little bit of warm water, took Zep's onesie and diaper off, and laid him on the ceramic tub with a towel carefully folded under his head.

"Is the water nice, buddy?" he asked the baby in a soft voice, surprising even himself at how tender he sounded, and the boy responded cooing softly. Dean huffed a laugh and relaxed as he knelt on the floor next to the bathtub and used his hand to water the baby's hair softly. "Yeah, you're happy, aren't you, m'boy?"

Dean took the soap, moved it in his hands a couple of times until bubbles form and then moved them along the baby's arms, legs and belly. Zeppelin just stared at him, grace swaying along with his soul in a calm waves, happy under the gentle caresses of his father. Dean begun to feel a warmth spreading all through his body as they looked at each other, green eyes into as equally green eyes. The soft noises his baby made echoed in the bathroom, but he remained pacefully quiet. This was all Zep wanted in life, for now at least; Dean was his heaven, and he could tell. He loved very few things and with great intensity, and his father was one of them. It was beautiful, to be loved naturally that much without judgement, without thinking of it twice.

"You've no critics about my soul, huh? Or Cas' wings? You're just a happy baby taking a bath," Dean talked, mostly to himself.

He grabbed the soap again, rubbed his hands together and blew a bubble out of his hand. It floated for a couple of seconds over the nephilim, descending slowly, and Zep was mesmerized by it. When it exploded, the baby gasped and then shrieked, deeply amused, and one of the lightbulbs in the bathroom exploded. Dean jumped for a second, then chuckled.

"We'd better stock up in those, huh?" he half-joked, but made a mental note to go to the supermarket before they were left in the dark. "I wish I could make Mary and Balthazar as happy as you... But they see right through me, don't they? They know I've messed up... My soul scares them, doesn't it?" Dean's smile faltered, his voice lowered. "Is it that broken, son? My soul, is it that bad?"

Dean laughed nervously in attempt to control his sadness, running a wet hand through his hair, but the tears in his eyes were undeniably present.

The human couldn't hide his emotions with fake smiles though. Zep watched Dean’s soul cloud with shame and pain, and he frowned in confusion, a part of him understanding there was something wrong, and he didn't like it. He mumbled something unintelligible, a kind of protest. _Don't be sad_. He waved his chubby arms around, splattering water all over. Dean laughed and blinked his tears away.

"Alright, alright, you're right, sorry. It's happy time with m'boy," he said, taking the soap again to form new bubbles to entertain the baby with. A long time ago, he’d done the same with Sam. How could he have forgotten that, he wondered now.

Outside the bathroom, Mary listened and watched through the small gap of the opened door. She was taking a break from her exercises; Balthazar was having difficulties with his and it only made him more frustrated when his sister finished them so much quicker than him. She hadn't meant to spy on Dean, but she couldn't help feeling drawn to them, and to the happy waves of Zep's grace and soul. That is, until she’d heard Dean say those things.

She felt terribly guilty as she walked away and back to Cas' bedroom. Dean was trying so hard to please them, and his soul already ached enough as it was, before they even arrived, to add up more feelings of sadness caused by them. Had she been rude to him? She told herself she was just a child, she had a right to have some time to be upset, but her brother's words resonated in her mind: _‘Don’t you want them to be happy? We're angels, we're supposed to guide people.’_

 _I'm not a child_ , she admitted with defeat, feeling like she was finally losing a very old battle with herself. _I don't know what I am, but I'm not a child._

For so long she'd tried to live a normal life, sheltered and encouraged by Dean, but the inevitable truth that was finally catching up with her was that she was anything _but_ normal. Children don't travel through universes. They don't have wings no one can see, and they certainly aren't visited by angels who looked at them like they're watching a new God in the making. She could go to school, get a job, go to college, fall in love and get married. And then what? What would happen when she stopped aging? She didn't even know when that would be. Would it be her choice? Could she die of old age if she chose to?

But she didn't want to die, she admitted to herself, just as she didn’t want to lose her powers. She wanted immortality; it could be a curse, she understood that, but it was also a relief. She could visit all her loved ones in Heaven, forever, and could fly across universes and dimensions as she pleased. She was special, absolutely magnificent and almost unique, and as much as she wanted to believe that those were good things, it was also _terrifying_. There were no others like her, except her brothers, and being the oldest, she’d be the first one to face all the changes and challenges of her kin. There were no plans laid for her, their future was absolute uncertainty that lasted, perhaps literally, _forever_. Things had been much simpler when all she had to worry about was homework…

But what if she was being selfish? Or maybe ungrateful? She had all these gifts and all she wanted was to be like everyone else. Was she wrong? Was Balthazar right to embrace the title given to them by the angels? Did she have to dedicate her existence to others? Truth be told, though she worried about her brother, a part of her had been glad Balthazar so gladly wanted to rise and lead all creatures, so she would’t have to. But now she admitted that to herself, now that everything was upside-down and it was harder than ever to pretend she just a clueless girl, she felt like a _coward_. Maybe if she had been stronger, if she’d exercised her grace more frequently and had a better control of it, she could have stayed home fighting the Devil with her parents. She was supposed to be stronger than him, she _could_ defeat him, she just didn’t want to _have_ to fight him. Her family dedicated their lives to saving strangers, and she wasn’t able to stand up to defend her own family?

Mary was sitting in the bed, hugging her legs close to her chest, staring at the ground as she let her mind wander into an existential crisis, when Sam knocked at the already opened door and came in. He frowned when he caught sight of the expression of herself; she looked like she was about to cry all over again.

"Hey. Are you okay, Mary?"

Mary clenched her jaw and nodded. It was obvious that she wasn't okay, but Sam thought better than to push her into talking about her feelings. The kid had gone through a lot today already.

Her uncle buried his hands on his pockets and rather shyly went to sit in the chair in front of her.

"So, hmm, I was thinking.... Everything's kind of crazy right now, you know? For you, and for us too... But maybe we can help each other make sense of this mess. I was thinking, if you'd like, I could teach you _our_ history. And something else, if you want. Like math, geography, _regular_ human history... So, you know, you aren't too far behind when you get back to school."

The young angel looked up at him and for a moment she didn't say anything. All she could think about was if she would be returning to school at all, to her home universe, to her real parents. What if she didn't? What if there was nothing to go back to, if Lucifer had destroyed it all already?

But then Sam smiled at her, a shy encouraging grin, his soul lighting up with understanding and patience and everything that made him good, and Mary for a moment just couldn't give in into despair, not with something so beautiful and familiar right in front of her. And at the same time, it was confusing. They were so alike, this Sam and _her_ Sam. She loved both of them, yet she hardly knew one of them.

Sam could see her hesitation, the way her eyes were beginning to shine with tears, and though he didn't know exactly what was causing her to react like this, he knew there was a whole list of possible options that had the little girl upset. He sighed and reached for her hand.

"I can't imagine what this must be like for you," he spoke softly and squeezed her hand. "But if I know my brother at all, if I know _myself_ at all, then I know they’re not going to give up. I am sure you're parents are going to come back for you."

"You don't know that," Mary looked down, choking with the lump in her throat. Her dad had said so himself, he couldn’t promise they would go back to get them before they left that night.

"I do. We've been through a lot in this universe. We've faced harder things than Lucifer, and made it through."

"Really?" Mary looked up again, eyes full of hope.

"Really... " Sam half-smiled.

“If you had history classes with me, you'd know, So what do you say?" he asked. "We could go to the library, just you and me, and I could teach you whatever you want to know. It'll be fun, nerd time with your alternate universe uncle, how about that?"

Mary couldn't help but chuckle through a sob, and when she blinked, a couple of tears ran down her face. Sam wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"It'll be okay, kiddo. And I know you don't like Rowena but... I swear she's not going to hurt any of us."

"I know," Mary sighed, not really wanting to admit out loud she knew the witch wasn't really a risk. "She loves Balthazar, I can see it in her soul."

Sam shifted, suddenly a little uncomfortable. Now he understood why sometimes the children stared at them with a strange intensity; they were staring at their _soul_. A chill went down his spine as he wondered what they saw in his, after all the bad things he’d done. "What's it like to see souls?"

"It takes time to be understand how to read them, and papa says we shouldn't, he says it's impolite, like we’re spying on people, but we can’t always help it. It’s hard to tune out the souls sometimes. I'm better at it than my brothers, but I'm still learning too. It’s kind of like reading people's feelings. They leave marks on a soul, make it shinier or darker, or they expand a little or shrink.”

"Oh, that reminds me, Cas said he’s done with Baltz, if you want to exercise with him some more..."

Mary nodded and both of them got to their feet. Just before they left the room, the girl took Sam's hand and looked up at him for a moment.

"Your soul is fine, uncle Sam," she said, taking the man completely by surprise. "Just... I know you. I know what you really want, and I've seen you get it so... Don't give up, okay?"

Sam stared back at her, dumbstruck, and simply smiled politely as he ignored the sudden lump in his throat.

He didn't have to think hard to know what he wanted. What he'd _always_ wanted. Not normal, he'd never had normal, he knew that, but something kind of close, something in between. He'd almost had it with Jess, and then again with Amelia, but Sam was tired of disappointments, and eventually he'd stopped trying at all, focusing instead in whatever new mess they got themselves in... And now the only mess was three children that quickly grew on all of them. No real impending danger, just the struggles of parenthood. And it was still terrifying to go after what he wanted, but at least he had the small consolation of knowing his soul wasn't entirely doomed or broken. There was still some kind of hope…

Later that evening, Dean set up Zeppelin’s crib in Castiel’s room. The man had argued that they should place it in his room, but then the angel pointed out that he didn't sleep, so it made more sense that he should watch the baby through the night.

“Dean, you don't even wake up early without a baby. I'll manage,” Cas said. Dean didn't argue, although a part of him he didn't know he had, longed to be the one that took care of the boy. “I'll put the kids to bed. Goodnight.”

Dean was a little taken aback as Cas turned his back on him and laid Zep in the crib. He had been nervous all day thinking tonight would be _the night_ , they would have _the_ talk, and after stressing so much about it, a part of Dean kind of wanted to get it over with. But Cas seemed distracted, tucking his boy in and humming some kind of lullaby to him. Castiel still seemed to fall into the parent roll so much more naturally than him. A part of him needed Cas to pressure him into this conversation because he just wasn’t able to gather the courage to start it all by himself. He found himself opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so he quickly closed it again. He felt stupid. Cas obviously didn't care as much as he'd thought he did.

"Goodnight," he mumbled with a sigh, then retreated to his bedroom. He was exhausted, _emotionally_ exhausted. The entire day had been a roller coaster of feelings, from the very moment he opened his eyes to this moment, when he laid alone in the dark, his eyes still opened.

What was he expecting anyway? What did he want to say to Cas? What did he want Cas to say to _him_? This universe was different, after all. There was a reason things hadn't happened like in the other one. Cas and he just didn't feel that way about each other, the angel had said so himself earlier that day, and the man tried very hard to deny that those words were still running around his head, like a broken record. He didn't care, it was fine, it was _normal_ for them, that's the way things were... But a part of him wished he knew the other universe as well as Cas did. It seemed unfair that he could have all those borrowed memories, all those answers to Dean’s embarrassing questions that he definitely didn't want to ask, and the angel kept them a secret. But then again, he wondered if it wasn’t a burden to carry all those images in one’s head. They weren’t real, they weren’t theirs. He blushed in the dark thinking all the things Cas must have seen them do, because Dean seriously doubted that if they were together, they would have had sex only three times, to have their children. Oh, boy, no, he would have pinned the angel down in the bed every time he got because-

 _Stop it, for God's sake!_ he yelled at his own mind.

He rolled over the bed, running a hand through his hair, embarrassed to even think about having sex with Cas. And knowing Rowena and her brother knew some version of him was doing it with the angel, not to mention the fucking King of Hell guessing it before anybody else, it made his ears burn hot with shame. It took him a long time to be able to shut his mind and fall asleep.

Dean wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Cas had put Mary and Baltz to bed in their own separate rooms. Balthazar had fallen asleep just before Castiel finished reading him a book they’d bought earlier. Mary, in the other hand, stayed with her eyes opened in the dark, just like Dean, until she decided she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. She got out of bed, walking with her bare feet to her papa’s bedroom, where she found Cas sitting in a chair next to Zep’s crib, reading. Or trying to, at least, while he made a great effort not to spy into the false memories he had with Dean. They invaded his mind too often and made him miserable; they felt so close yet so far to reality. They were terribly distracting, so beautiful and so impossible...

“Everything alright, Mary?” he asked in a whisper when he saw his daughter come in.

Mary sighed and sat in the edge of his bed.

“I can’t sleep,” she confessed.

“Something in your mind?”

She huffed a laugh bitterly. “A lot of things. But… I was thinking about earlier… About… Well, about your wings.”

“Oh,” Cas fidgeted in the chair, looking down.

“I’m sorry,” Mary blurted out, looking down too with shame. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, papa. I… I was thinking, I can help you heal. I can feed you my grace.”

Cas looks up with concern as Mary stood and slowly reached out to grab his hand. She studied her hand on his for a moment, as if it would disappear.

“Mary, no. I’ve seen what it does to you. I see what it did to you when I took it to defeat Abaddon. I’m fine.”

The memory seemed fresh. Mary had giving him so much grace, she’d been unconscious for days. Eventually, Cas had taken her to Heaven so she could recover faster, while Dean stayed on Earth, a ball of unbearable nerves.

“You don’t have to take that much,” she insisted. “You can take some, every night. You’ll heal slowly, but still… And it’ll help me sleep.”

Cas shook his head and Mary squeezed his hand.

“Father, _please_. I want to help you. You’re going to need your grace if-”

Mary cut herself short, blushing and unsure if she should proceed. _If you’re gonna create a nephilim_ , she’d meant to say _._ It was a long shot, but if Dean and Castiel _did_ end up together in the end, if Balthazar succeeded in bringing them together, the angel’s grace might be too weak to stand creating life. Now, _that_ would be tragic, she thought, if they got together and couldn’t have kids, because they deserved to have his own children. They could be happy, and it was within her reach to help them.

“If you’re going to teach Baltz,” she said instead. “You’re going to need to be strong.”

Castiel sighed and frowned as he considered her offer. He couldn’t deny that the prospect of flying again… It was tempting. He missed it. He missed all of it; feeling strong, flying all over the Earth, watching his Father’s creations, having the sufficient strength to watch over Dean and Sam and going to them whenever they needed him…And it was true, it’d be much easier to teach Balthazar if the he was up to full power. Not to mention he’d be able to protect them more easily.

Mary could see him hesitating but melting into her offer, and gave him a small encouraging smile. It took the angel a moment to make up his mind, but in the end, he nodded in agreement. Mary’s grin widened. She let her grace reach out to touch her father’s and it took him a moment to be able to latch on to hers. He’d been in the giving end with Zep, never the receiving one, and it was an odd sensation as Mary let go of her grace and it passed on to his, spreading like wildlife through him. He caught her in her arms just as her eyes closed and her knees gave in. He held her there for a moment, his own eyes closed, and he gasped as he felt the graces dissolved into one. Hers filled the gaps in his injured grace, and his blue eyes shone with grace for a moment. She hadn’t given him too much, but Castiel could already feel himself growing stronger. If he fed like this a couple more times, his grace would be strong enough to heal completely. He could fly again.

Very carefully, he laid Mary on her bed and tucked her in, kissed her forehead and returned to his own bedroom. He sat on the chair, looking down at his hands, clenching them into fists, then opening them again. A thrilling excitement ran through him with this new promise of hope. Oh, yes, he’d had it coming, losing part of his grace and his wings had been a consequence of his stupidity, but if there was any chance that he could be again who he had been once before, someone who had been worthy of Dean… He had to try to be that angel again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users): supernaturalfreewill ; songofthecagedmoose ; samwinchesterblog ; lovesj2m ; castieledits ; godshipsit ; guardianangelcastiel ; thewinchesdaily ; canonspngifs


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry if posts have been slow lately, it's the end of term and I'm crashing and burning for all the work I didn't do before, classic me doing everything last minute.  
> Hope you enjoy this one.

Mary started and her eyes flew opened when the desperate cries of her father reached her from somewhere dark and distant. Hellfire surrounded her, the smell of ashes and burned skin made their way through the air to her nose, and she could hear Dean calling for her and her brothers, to the top of his lungs, above the noise of thousands of souls screaming in agony. She panicked for a moment until her eyes laid on her father in the distance, running around, looking for his children, and for a moment he looked right through her as if she was invisible. Understanding dawn on her; this was a dream. No, a _nightmare_ , Dean's nightmare.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and when she opened her eyes again, she was back in her room at the bunker. She couldn't help shaking as she stumbled out of bed, the images of hell still raw and very real in her mind. Dean's room was just a couple of doors away from hers and when she entered it, she could see her father shaking in his bed, covered in sweat, fisting the sheets in his sleep.

Still panting and agitated, Mary made an effort to clear her mind as a hand came to laid in Dean's forehead. The moment their skin touched, the man relaxed and quickly became still. His brow relaxed and his mouth opened a little to let out a sigh.

"You heard him too?"

Mary jumped to see Balthazar coming through the door, walking carefully on the tip of his toes. He looked shaken and small, his wings tucked behind his back in a sign of fear. She nodded and extended her arms to invite her brother in, who buried his face in her chest. There was no need to ask if he was fine, because of course he wasn't; they'd just accidentally visited hell in their father's memories.

Dean's nightmares weren't an unusual business even in their universe, but Castiel was almost always there to stop them right away. But tonight there was no Cas in Dean's bed to save him from his own mind.

"Brother, it was just a dream," Mary whispered and pat his back when she felt something wet against her pyjama t-shirt, the boy's shoulders shaking gently. His grip around her waist tightened.

"I know," he responded in a high pitched, broken voice that made her heart sink.

They stayed like that for a moment, Mary carefully watching over Dean while she waited for Balthazar to settle down a little. It was easier to get distracted from the awful things they'd just seen while she took the role of care-taker.

"Papa must be awake. Why don't you go and sleep with him?"

"No," Balthazar said as he pulled away from her and turned around to look at Dean. "No, I'll stay with daddy. What if he has another nightmare?"

"I don't want you to be in it, Balthazar. Don't answer his dream prayers anymore, you hear me? I'll take care of the nightmares."

"I can't control it, it wasn't on purpose," Baltz confessed with a sigh and moved around the bed to climb onto the other side. He moved carefully to snuggle against Dean under the covers. "But I can stop him from having more nightmares."

Mary sighed and climbed into bed next to him, tucking him in properly until the covers were well over his shoulders. If Dean had a nightmare while laying this close to Baltz, he would inevitably share it with the boy and then she'd have to wake both of them up.

"You're so stubborn," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. She didn't sound mad, just resigned if anything. It made Balthazar smiled because grandpa Bobby always said the same, then added it was a Winchester thing with a shake of his head. But there was always a wink and a smile at the end directed at the boy.

The boy gently pressed his hand to Dean's arms and shared that memory as he closed his eyes. His mind rambled on with several memories that made him smile and relaxed him as they replaced the horrors he'd just witnessed. He'd visited the nightmare for just a couple of seconds before Mary had dissolved it and he had years of joy and love to combat those bad ones that were painfully carved in Dean's soul. He chose memories he thought Dean would like too, like the one he had from a couple of years ago on a road trip. It was barely a frozen memory, a flash of images that didn't last long that a couple of short seconds, he was too young to remember much of it, but it was still happy and pure and sweet. He was in the back of Baby with his sister, looking at Dean and Cas hold hands while Dean drove on and on, and father and daughter sang (quite out of tune) to some old AC/DC songs. Balthazar didn't know the lyrics but he hummed to the rhythm, pretending as best he could he knew the lyrics too, and Cas turned around from time to time to smile encouragingly at him. It didn't matter where they were going or how long it took Dean to drive them there; all that matter was that they were together.

Dean melted the image into his own unconscious mind, manipulating it, guiding it. He turned his hand around to interlock his fingers with the angel's and smiled shyly at him. Balthazar giggled and leant back on his seat as the music changed by Dean's choice. This one the boy knew and he sang along with his dad. Dean looked at him through the rear-view mirror with a wide, proud smile.

"That's m'boy!" he yelled over the music and smiled, feeling happier than ever.

Mary watched a lazy grin reach her brother's lips in his sleep and the girl sighed with relief. At least one of us can sleep, she thought, running a hand through his dark hair to move some of it away from his closed eyes. That boy could sleep through a hurricane, but Mary was too busy keeping an eye on the two of them for a while before she too managed to relax enough to fall asleep.

Dean woke up hours later feeling warmer than ever, inside and out. He rolled in his sleep, only half-awake, and it took him a moment to register that someone else was breathing softly next to him. He sat up with a start and a hand flew to his chest in relief when he saw it was just Balthazar. But the quick movement sent the mattress bouncing, waking his daughter with a start too. They looked at each other with confusion for a moment.

"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked, voice dragging with tiredness.

"What? N-no," Dean ran a hand through his hair and looked down at Baltz. The boy didn't so much as flinch. "What are you doing here? I don't remember you coming in..."

Mary blushed, wondering if maybe they'd been wrong to assume Dean wouldn't mind them crawling into bed with him. Balthazar always did when he had nightmares.

"You had a nightmare, you called us. I- I ended it," she confessed shyly.

Dean clenched his teeth as he slowly started to faintly remember some how the dreams he'd had that night. Most of it was gone. He could only remember fire and fear, and he felt terribly ashamed for calling the children in his darkest hour, dragging them into his private horrors, but then the nightmare was replaced with songs and something warm, like skin on skin, and Cas' smile…

 _Oh, yeah, that..._ He gulped as he remembered and blushed furiously at the image of them holding hands so naturally. It was engraved in his mind, it'd felt so real…

Mary watched Dean lay back on the mattress again. He sighed and put an arm around Balthazar, pulling the boy to rest his head in his chest. The girl felt herself relax at the familiarity of the image; Dean was as welcoming as ever and Baltz's grace naturally leant against his soul.

Dean eyed her for a moment, studying her as she sat rather stiffly next to Baltz.

"Thank you," he whispered under his breath. "And, hmm," Dean cleared his throat and looked away. "I'm sorry you had to see my nightmares... Does that happen often? In your universe, I mean."

"No... Papa's always there for you, unless he's not home."

"Right..." Dean nodded, somehow sad.

A part of him couldn't help but wonder what that must be like, having an angel- no, having _Castiel_ watching over him, every night, all night long. It sounded like something he'd do, selflessly keeping an eye over his loved ones. He guessed they slept on the same bed, because why wouldn't they? They had kids together after all, it wasn't like intimacy between them was a state secret but the thought still made his cheeks go red so he was thankful the bedroom was still dark and his daughter couldn't see his face.

“Dad…” Mary started shyly, pulling the covers over her as if to cover her embarrassment with it. “I just wanted to say… I'm sorry about what I said yesterday, about your soul.”

Dean’s breath hitched for a moment and he tried hard not to think about the things she'd said because he knew she hadn't meant to worry or hurt him, but they still had an effect on him. It'd be easier to forget about it if the kids didn't give his souls funny looks from time to time.

“Mary, it's okay-”

“Your soul is still beautiful,” she interrupted him before shyness overcame her and rendered her mute. “It's just- we can see you're not happy, dad, and it's… well, it’s sad. And I don't understand why you and papa aren't together. You could make each other happy and I can see your soul light up when he smiles at you. You don't seem so different from our parents. So why aren’t you-”

“Dean?”

Both of them lifted their gazes to see Sam popping his head from behind the door. Sam seemed taken aback by the image before him, but then his expression softened and he smiled, pleasantly surprised.

“Well, good morning to you all,” he said.

Dean shushed him and pointed at a still very sleepy Balthazar.

“Still sleeping? It’s like 9.30. Like father, like son,” he teased his brother with a shake of his head, and Dean would have called him ‘bitch’ had Mary not been present. “Mary, would you like some breakfast? We can go to the library afterwards if you want.”

“To the library?” Dean looked back and forth between them.

“Uncle Sam offered me to homeschool me,” Mary explained as she carefully climbed out of bed, then confessed under her breath, “I miss school.”

“I see. You’re the brains in the family, right, kiddo? Took after your uncle.”

“I take after you, dad,” Mary told him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a warm smile; Dean Winchester underestimated himself in every universe, apparently. She saw Dean grinned at her before she closed the door and followed Sam through the corridor towards the kitchen.

Sam prepared some tea and fruits for Mary and made small talk while she ate, then together they headed out on the Impala towards town. They could easily study back at the bunker, Sam had enough resources online to teach Mary, but he thought the girl would appreciate a change a scenery and some alone time with her uncle, so he drove them to the public library. It was the closest thing to school Sam could recreate for her. The place wasn’t very big and Sam told Mary to get a table for them while he looked for some books. The topics for that morning were some good old math and a bit of history of their universe, their lives here, while he wanted Mary to take home some biology books to read for tomorrow. The morning went on smoothly, both of them lost in conversation with each other. It was surprisingly easy the way they connected, and Sam was pleased to find himself enjoying alone time with his niece; if he was honest with himself, he’d feared it’d be awkward without her parents around. Mary pointed out the differences with her universe, which mostly included Dean and Castiel being together and making decisions around their children, and Sam listened carefully. Those people sounded a lot like the ones he knew. He was sure the difference between this universe and that one was a simple change of events, something that one of them must have done or said differently that made them end up together, and not a difference in personality or sexuality. Dean must have loved Cas all this time and vice versa, but neither had had the courage to do or say anything about it. It wasn’t the first time Dean had kept something from him and would probably not be the last, but to Sam it was certainly the saddest of all lies he’d ever been told. How could have Dean kept this a secret for _so long_? Why had he never acted on his feelings? Was he even aware of them? He couldn’t say it would surprise him to learn Dean didn’t want to admit he had feelings for a man. Dean Winchester, _gay_. Or bisexual, whatever. That was something Sam would have never expected, Dean had never so much as suggested he was interested in men, but now all the staring at Cas made a lot of sense, after all. Had he not done something very similar, Sam would be angry at Dean for letting something as stupid as labels keep him from being happy.

Everything was going well, until they decided it was better to head back to the bunker to get some lunch ready before Dean had the chance to start preparing hamburgers. They picked up the books and walked to the librarian’s desk to get permission to take the books home with them. Mary was telling Sam where she had left off with geography at school when she looked up and found her aunt looking down at her with a bright smile.

“Hello, there,” the woman greeted them as Sam laid the books in front of her. She was very pretty, with long red hair and blue eyes. She looked almost the same, her soul as kind as ever.

“Hey, there,” Sam said at the same time Mary choked and blurted out, “aunt Clara?”

Clara’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment, then she chuckled. “Well, yes and no? My name is Clara. But last I checked, I don't have a niece,” Clara laughed, not knowing how much those words actually hurt Mary.

Sam’s face fell as he looked back and forth between them, then directed his gaze at the woman, like he was seeing her for the first time.

It wasn't the first time they’d met, though. Sam had come to the library in multiple occasions to look for books; novels, to be precise, since nothing in this library was of importance for hunts. This was where Sam came when he needed a break from their lives. Of course, he'd noticed Clara before; she was charming and beautiful, and Sam had gone as far as flirting with her a couple of times, but he'd never allowed himself to take things any further; she wasn't the type of woman you just slept with and forgot about, but he wasn't the type of man that allowed himself to have romantic relationships because he knew by experience that they usually ended in blood and suffering.

But now, it felt different, not to mention weird. This was his wife, in some universe. His eyes studied her face like she was a complete stranger and something utterly fascinating. All at once he went through every memory of their short meetings in the library and wondered in which one he'd gathered the courage to ask her out in Mary’s universe. The more he thought about it, the more the thought he understood Dean.

Clara gave the two of them a confused look, then cleared her throat and smiled teasingly at the man.

“You okay, Sam? Do I have something on my face?” she sniffled, shifting with embarrassment, praying to God she didn't have something embarrassing in her face, not in front of Sam, please. She didn't seem put off by the man staring, just a bit taken aback by it.

“N-no,” Sam shook his head and cleared his throat, looking down at his feet, cheeks burning a furious red.

“And who are you, darling?” Clara asked Mary.

“She’s my brother’s kid. I’m homeschooling her,” Sam explained.

“Oh, wow, that's cool. Is that what these are for?” she asked as she grabbed the books Sam had laid over the counter. The moment her hands became visible to them, both Winchesters locked eyes with the golden ring in her finger.

“You're married?” Mary asked, voice raising an octave, completely horrified, a hand flying to her chest as if she was personally offended by the presence of said ring. “You can't be married, you belong with uncle Sam!”

Clara’s eyes widened and she blushed furiously, but it was nothing compared to Sam.

“Mary-”

“No! If you aren't together, then you don't have Chris! You have to have Christine!”

Sam’s face fell, suddenly understanding her meltdown; he didn’t just have a wife, he had a _kid_ too. Well, not him, but that other version of him. There went another person in Mary’s life that was gone in this world.

As a reflection of her soul’s pain, Mary’s grace wanted desperately to break lose and shout in anger, and knowing at a subconscious level that if it did with Sam and Clara standing so close, it’d hurt them, it hit the floor like lightning and the whole ground under them begun to shake. The girl jumped, realizing she was causing an earthquake much like Balthazar did when he was upset. Clara couldn't possibly know it was her doing, but Sam did. He turned to grab Mary, to stop her somehow, but Mary turned on her heels and ran out. Sam abandoned the books and ran after her.

In the street, cars had pulled over in the middle of the street and people were hurrying out of buildings. Mary ran into the alley next to the library and leant against the wall, her hands on her head, eyes closed in concentration as she tried to pull her grace back into place.

“Mary!” Sam knelt next to her and cupped her face. “Calm down, Mary, it's okay.”

“No, it's not!” she cried and when she opened her eyes, they shone with her grace. Sam could barely stare back in her direction. “She's married to someone else! How are you going to have Christine if she's married to someone else!?”

“Maybe we won't, Mary. Maybe it's not meant to be, not in this universe.”

“Well, then this universe is _stupid_!” she yelled, tears pilling up in her eyes.

“Maybe. _Probably_. But it is what it is. Things happen differently for a reason.”

“If you say it's God-”

“I don't know what’s the reason, kid, I really don’t. I am happy if she's happy, and I am glad she found someone to love when I wasn't there for her. I wouldn’t have wanted her to wait around for me forever. And maybe- maybe there's someone else for me in this universe too. I want to believe there is. Maybe there are many universes because there are so many decisions to be made, and all of them take us in a different path to happiness.”

Mary sobbed and closed her eyes, but little by little, the earthquake gave in.

“Things don’t have to be the exact same way as you know them to be. Different is good too, sometimes. And you won’t have to stay here forever anyway. You'll go back to see your cousin in no time, I'm sure. Meanwhile, you can make the most of both worlds. Learn what we did wrong here and show your people a better way, and we’ll learn from you too."

The girl opened her eyes, and though they were still blue, they were normal now. Sam sighed with relief when the ground stopped shaking for good, and his hands went down to take her hands.

“Things here will never be like they are in your home,” Sam continued, voice soft and bittersweet, “but they can still be good. Maybe we just needed you to give us hope again, remind us that we can be happy, if we stop being so afraid to try. You know, it’s nice to hear that if I chose to settle down, things would be good. I’ve always been afraid to drag someone into my life and get them hurt. Now I know, thanks to you, I can have the family I’ve always wanted.”

Sam gave Mary a tentative smile and while she didn't return it, she did throw her arms around his neck, and Sam held her back for a moment. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel if that was his own daughter. Would it be different? Would he still be able to have one, if he wanted to?

“Come on, let’s go home."

Back in the bunker, a little earlier, Cas wandered into Dean’s bedroom after Zep accidently-on-purpose took a fist of baby food and threw it right at him.

“Dean?” he knocked on the door and went in when he heard Dean respond with a sleepy growl. The angel knew Balthazar was sleeping in his bed, Sam had told him, but that didn’t stop Cas from smiling when he saw the two of them; they looked so comfortable with each other, like real father and son. The angel suspected Dean was actually very happy about the little intruder.

“I was wondering if I could borrow one of your shirts… The trench-coat and the suit are probing to be a little unsuitable for daily parenthood.”

Dean opened one eye to take a lot at Cas and huffed a laugh when he saw the stains in the angel’s usually white shirt as he walked in. Zep looked innocently around, completely free of guilt, and stretched his arms towards Dean when he saw his father. Cas complied with the baby’s wishes and carefully lowered him into Dean’s welcoming arms.

“Morning, Zep,” he said and laid the baby on top of himself, reaching forwards for a moment to kiss the top of his head. “Grab whatever you want, Cas. We can go shopping later if you want to, I have to stop by the supermarket to buy lightbulbs anyway. Right, Zep?” Dean looked at his son and winked at him. Zep smiled as he tried to crawl up to Dean’s face.

The angel grabbed the first shirt he saw in Dean’s closet and begun to strip off his clothes right in front of Dean. Too surprised to look away, Dean stared at him. First, off went the trench-coat, then his suit jacket. It took Cas a moment to undo his tie and the back of the man’s mind very loudly told him to either look away or tell his friend to change somewhere else, but he was about to see Cas’ naked torso and that rattled Dean more than it should.

“C-Cas?”

“Yes?”

He turned around, and to Dean’s horror, begun to undo the bottoms of his dirty shirt quickly as he kept his eyes locked on Dean’s. With a swift roll of his shoulders, the fabric slid down his arms and felt soundlessly on the floor. Castiel didn’t seem to have any notion of shame or embarrassment, while Dean couldn’t even find the will to speak or remember what he wanted to say anyway.

“Sam and Mary went to the library. They should be back soon,” Cas said when Dean didn’t say anything. “I was thinking we could have pasta today. It’s a compromise between your tastes and Sam’s new food regime. What do you think?”

All Dean could do was nod while his eyes momentarily drifted downwards to stare at Castiel’s bare skin as the angel grabbed the new shirt and pulled it around his shoulders.

For a moment Dean had a clear view, even through the dim light of the dark room, of Cas’ muscles in his arms and shoulders, his biceps briefly flexing, a long thick vein in his arm making itself important for reasons Dean couldn’t comprehend. The lean and defined shapes in his stomach were almost unholy, and his slacks hung too mercilessly down, revealing more skin than usual while the belt around his waist remained lose. The man had to admit Castiel was in shape- in _great_ shape, in fact, and there was a new kind of desire rising within Dean that he’d never let himself think about, at least not while awake. What his mind did when he was sleeping, wasn’t something he could fight, but this… He should fight this. He should look away. It was inappropriate, for so many reasons…

Dean gently pulled his arm from under Balthazar and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, his back to Cas’ because he couldn’t find the will to look away from him as long as the angel was in sight and so shamelessly showing himself. He held the baby against his chest and patted his butt just to busy himself with something.

“Y-yeah,” he coughed and cleared his throat, “pasta. Sure. I- Cas- I think we should talk… Right?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I’m- I’m telling you? Yeah, I’m telling you.”

Cas walked around the bed, shirt already bottomed up and face serious.

“Alright. I have been meaning to ask you something, actually.”

“Really?”

Dean’s breath hitched. Was that it? Was the angel going to ask Dean how he felt about him? God, did he even have a straight answer to that?

“Why did you lie to Mary?” Cas asked.

“Excuse me?”

That wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“You told her there wasn’t a letter for her. You lied. Why?”

“Oh,” Dean’s face fell. It was stupid to feel somehow disappointed, but he’d been expecting a whole other kind of conversation. He tried to compose his face quickly. “Well, Cas, the letter said to give it to them if their parents never came back for them. If you ask me, it’s probably some kind of bittersweet goodbye. The kids don’t need that right now. Hopefully, they’ll never need to read it at all.”

“You think they’ll beat Lucifer?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, lowering his voice and turning around to keep an eye on Baltz, make sure he was still sleeping; the kid slept like a bear through winter. Dean did not envy that other version of himself in that aspect, the Devil was an enemy that still made him shudder at the thought of facing him again. “For their sake, I hope they do. I don’t want to be the one to give Mary that letter.”

The eldest Winchester laid back in the bed, not to sleep, but to contemplate his son for a moment, while a terrible, selfish thought crossed his mind… He wanted the kids’ real parents to come back for them for their sake, but a part of him wondered what it’d be like if he got to keep them. It was stupid, he barely knew them, they’d spent less than two days together, but Dean felt already attached to them and he wouldn’t just not mind keeping them; he _wanted_ to. There would be a time when the kids would go away, maybe, if their parents were lucky enough to beat the Devil, a hard but not impossible task. What would Dean do when that day came? How was he going to say goodbye and make peace with the idea of never seeing them again? He’d have to go his whole life not knowing what would come of them. Zeppelin wouldn’t even remember him.

He'd almost forgotten about Cas, until the angel sighed and for the moment, agreed to keep the letter hidden. The kids had already been through too much and they had had enough arguments and meltdowns, they could use a break. He took the baby back in his arms and started to walk away, but stopped under the frame of the door, and barely turned to look at Dean when he spoke.

"Dean, I'm sorry about the nightmare. I usually stop them in time."

Cas lifted his eyes too steal at glance in the man's direction, wondering if maybe he's said too much, and hoping Dean wouldn't be angry with his intrusion of his privacy.

"You- you what?" Dean blushed, feeling that (now more than ever) usual rush of affection for the angel pumping furiously through his veins.

"I- Yes," he answered dumbly, making no sense. "Sometimes, you know... You call me in your dreams."

"Oh..." Dean bored holes into Castiel's back and wished he'd turn around.  _Stay, talk to me, I can't do this alone_ , he thought desperately.

"Yes, well. I'll make sure to stop them so you don't call the children again."

Cas was out of the room before Dean got a chance to say anything else, and even if he wanted to chase after him, Balthazar suddenly stirred and sighed, then opened his eyes slowly.

“Hi,” he mumbled lazily.

Dean smiled, though he felt terrible, but he was an expert at faking happiness, at least when the kids didn't pay enough attention at his soul. “Hey, there, kiddo… How about we get up, huh? You’ve slept enough today. Let’s grab some lunch, do something fun today. What do you say?”

Baltz opened his eyes a little in interest and crawled closer to Dean.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well… How about we watch a movie? I’ll let you pick.”

“Really?” Balthazar sat up, grinning from ear to ear; he didn't usually get to pick movies.

“Really.”

“I want… I want the one with the cowboys.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, that’s specific,” he said. “Do you remember the name?”

Baltz shook his head and smiled with a little embarrassment. That was probably why he never got to pick movies. Truth was, Dean had shown him so many cowboys movies, he couldn’t keep track of all the names.

"I like all of them," he shrugged.

"That's my boy!" Dean smile widely at him. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to watch a bunch of them until we find it.”

Dean did his best to bury that dark feeling that had sprouted in his gut like a bad see and told himself to enjoy this, his son’s happy face looking up at him with adoration, while he still could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users & mine & random google searches): bossy-pants-af ; ahoyspn ; touchmishaswormstache


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, guys. Thanks for reading and for your messages / kudos <3

Dean knew his brother well enough to know something was up with him. Rowena was still sleeping and Cas was with the kids in the library, so he took the opportunity to sneak into the kitchen to have a word with Sam.

The incredibly tall man was cutting vegetables and throwing them in a pan that already had tomato sauce cooking. Dean admitted quickly that the sauce looked and smelled pretty good, before he examined the other's blank and grabe expression for a moment.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean started casually, leaning against the fridge, "how was the study session? Everything alright?"

Sam sighed and stopped cutting the vegetables. There was no point saying he was fine, and frankly he had no intentions of dancing around the matter any longer, so now they were alone, Sam needed to talk. He needed to say something, for his sake and for Dean's.

"It was fine," he started, and when Dean looked at him like he thought his brother was full of shit, he insisted, "really, it _was_ fine. _Until_ I met my wife and Mary had a meltdown."

“I'm sorry, you _what_?”

“You heard me. Uncle Sam is married to aunt Clara from the library in town, and together we have our daughter Christine. At least, it goes that way in some universe. _Here_ , she's married to someone else.”

“Oh,” Dean said dumbly, not really knowing what else to say. He remembered what he’d felt like thinking Cas was married to someone else, how much it had bothered him, and then blushed when he realised he was comparing their relationship with that of Sam and his wife. “I'm sorry about that, Sammy.”

“It's fine, Dean, I’m fine, honestly. If anything, Mary was way more upset than I was.  I don't have feelings for her. I’ve always thought she was attractive and kind, and I was sure she’d say yes if I asked her out, but that's the thing, I never did. And I'm glad she moved on, you know? But to think that all this time, the person I was maybe meant to be with was right in front of me and I was too scared to make a move…”

Sam’s eyes bored into Dean’s and it took the eldest Winchester a moment to understand what Sam was trying to say.... He wasn't speaking about himself anymore.

Dean’s breath hitched and he looked away, feeling mortified. He knew where Sam was going and _oh boy_ , he wasn't ready to have that conversation with his baby brother. He would most likely _never_ be ready.

“Dean,” Sam moved quickly, blocking his brother’s way, before he could attempt to flee the room, “it's okay, you can talk to me.”

“About what?” Dean hissed threateningly, his natural response to feeling uncomfortable under the spotlight. He'd approach Sam because he thought the other needed to talk, but he'd never expected things to end up being about himself.

“You know about what,” Sam hissed back in a whisper. “You and Cas-”

“Are _friends_ ,” Dean finished through gritted teeth.

“Oh, yeah, friends who have _babies_ together.”

“They're not _ours_ , Sam, not really.”

“It’s some version of you.”

“That means nothing, I bet there's an universe where we're _women_ , Sam. That's the whole _point_ of alternate universes, all kinds of freaky stuff can happen.”

“Oh, _come on_. Are you really that blind? Or do you just not want to accept it?”

“Accept what?”

Dean stepped right into Sam’s face, daring him to speak his mind, to say what Dean already knew he was implying. He was terrified of hearing the words out loud, to have someone else define him when he wasn’t even sure how to do that himself.

But Sam didn't say the one word Dean feared been called. Instead he shook his head in disappointment, because he couldn’t believe his older brother wasn’t being so childish about this, and took a step back.

“We've made mistakes, you and I both. We've missed out on so much out of fear… We don't fear ghosts or demons, we fear _happiness_ ,” he laughed bitterly, pain in his eyes. “It wasn't the hunting life that kept us from what we wanted, Dean. In the end, it was _us_. Can't you see that?”

“You really think we're just gonna get everything we've ever wanted if we wish for it really, really hard?” Dean asked with a mocking edge in his voice, then scoffed. “You think we are free to take whatever we want? After everything we've done?”

It broke Sam's heart to read between the lines; it wasn't just fear stopping his brother, but the fact that he thought he didn't _deserve_ those things, he didn't deserve the family and joy the children’s real father had.

“Happy endings are not for us, Sammy. Every time we've tried, everything went to hell. Almost _literally_ , sometimes. What does that tell you, huh?”

“I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but we should at least _try_ to be happy. Jesus, what's the point of anything we do if we've stopped living? Don't we deserve a little something too? Worst case scenario, we fail and we keep being as miserable as always. _Best_ case scenario? You get to be _happy_ , Dean. You get to have a _family_ , to be _loved_ , and so do I. Don’t tell me Cas is like a brother to you, because you don’t look at me the way you look at him. And I bet my soul he feels the same way about you. So what is it? Are you worried of what I'm going to think about you if you're with him? Of what _strangers_ are going to think of you?”

Dean’s face burned with embarrassment and anger. Because he couldn't confront that part of the argument, he focused on something else. “Oh, and look how well that turned out! That other me ended up sending his children away to another universe because the goddamn devil is out to kill the Winchesters! _Again_!”

“Can you stop talking about them and focus on yourself?”

“No! They're the whole reason we're even having this conversation in the first place! Look what happens when we try to play house, Sam!”

“Fine, tell me I'm wrong, storm out right now,” Sam responded, waving his arms around in anger too, moving back towards the pan, which seemed to be burning, “but stop hiding under the excuse that you're different from that other Dean because I'm pretty sure you're almost the same, except you're a coward and he's not.”

The knuckles in Dean’s fists were white with the amount of force he was clenching them with. He wanted so bad to take a swing at Sam but he wasn't going to, not with the kids in the other room, so before he completely lost his temper and caused a scene, he turned on his heels and begun to walk away, telling Sam to mind his own business over his shoulder as he walked away.

He made a great deal of effort not to return an punch his brother when he heard Sam scoff when he turned away. He made for his room and closed the door behind him, praying nobody would bother him; he needed time out to settle if he was going to have lunch with the rest of them, if he was going to sit at the table with Sam and pretend everything was fine. Because he had to pretend, of course. He had to keep peace at the bunker, keep the kids in good moods, it was the least he could do for them, after everything they'd gone through.

But Sam’s words had had an effect on him, of course, and a strong one. He didn't even know what to think about first. A part of him felt sorry for Sam and could not imagine what would feel like to know the person you belong to suddenly has make due with someone else. He’d had a taste of it, but it hadn’t been the same, he knew Cas wasn't _really_ with anybody. Just the possibility of the angel replacing them- no, replacing _him_ , with someone else had put him in a terrible mood for days, he could not even begin to imagine how he would had reacted if Cas had suddenly turned up with a ring in his finger. Learning he was the father of the children had been surprising and terrifying in a whole different way, but deep down, Dean couldn't deny he had been somehow _relieved_ ; there wasn't someone else Castiel would run off to, after all. It was somehow comforting knowing that the angel may belong with him, whatever the label between him…

And that was the second and scariest issue. _What was_ the label between them? Sam was right, Dean knew that; of course he didn't look at Cas the same way he looked at Sam, there was no denying that anymore, not since Cas had changed so shamelessly in front of him the other day. One doesn't react like that to a sibling changing in front of you, like he wanted to press pause and stare at that bare skin all day long, memorizing every curve, every inch of toned muscle...

This was fine, though. Okay, Dean could live with this, could manage it, surely. He'd been through worse, having a crush on you angel best friend would surely not be worse than Hell or Purgatory. So why complicate things? There were fine like this. This was the best Dean could aspire to, a steady, reliable friendship with the angel. He'd take that, gladly, if he could keep Cas by his side. No drama, no arguments, no weirdness.

 _No joy_ , a rebellious part of his brain whispered in the back of his mind.

He shook his head, drowning that voice. What did Sam know, after all, about Cas? Cas missed Heaven, missed his siblings. He'd go back home in a heartbeat if he wasn't so unwelcomed there for all the messes the Winchesters had dragged him into. Dean had corrupted him, he shared the angels’ opinions in that matter, but he couldn't help wishing the angel would stay nonetheless, it was a selfish desire that burned deep through his DNA, except the angel left them time and time again. How long would it last this time until Cas had other businesses to attend to? When the children left, whenever their parents came for them, would Cas leave too? Maybe Cas loved him, maybe not, but if he hadn't said anything in so long, he probably had his reasons. After all, Dean had done a lot of bad things in this world that the other version of himself hadn't. His soul was uglier, more broken. Why would an angel settle for that? Maybe Dean had been able to seduce Cas long ago when the angels looked at him with bigger expectations, when they'd considered him worthy enough to rescue him from hell, but now… What the hell did he have to offer now?

In the end, Dean laid on his bed, put his headphones over his ears and turned up the volume of the music loud enough that he could risk making his eardrums explode but he needed the music to be louder than his thoughts because if they went down the dangerous path of what was going to happen when the kids left, he'd lose whatever sanity was left in him.

Balthazar went to get him for lunch eventually. Just the sight of those excited, innocent blue eyes made him feel a little better; apparently he was a huge fan of pasta, and combined with the cowboy marathon scheduled for the afternoon, the kid was having the time of his life.

If anyone could tell there was any tension between the Winchester brothers, nobody commented on it. Rowena actually complimented Sam’s cooking and Balthazar kept making all kinds of pleased noises as he went through his portion working rather clumsily with his fork. In no time, he had sauce all around his mouth and chin. Rowena had tried cleaning him up a couple of times, but in the end gave up and just waited until he was done eating to clean his face.

“You've the manners of a Winchester,” she said and smirked at the expressions of utter annoyance the brothers were wearing.

“Well, I am a Winchester,” Baltz said with a shrug, looking somehow proud.

Dean didn’t so much as pretended he was going to help Sam pick up the dirty dishes. He got up and almost ran to the couch, closely followed by his middle son. He connected the computer to the TV he’d purchased a while ago (now Sam couldn’t say it’d been a waste of money!) and played one of his all time favourite westerns. Eventually, Rowena and Castiel joined them. The angel sat next to Dean, the sides of their legs touching as he moved closer to the man to make room for the witch. Dean was more aware of the contact than he’d like to admit, and he found himself rather distracted every time the angel moved to accommodate the fidgeting baby in his arms, their legs brushing together. Balthazar laid on the floor, his hands behind his head, watching the movie with a wide grin. Apparently Dean had showed him this one before because the child would sometimes pretend he was a gunman himself, drawing his gun (his hand, really) at the same time than the characters in the movie, and would say something that was surprisingly close to the actors’ actual lines. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Mary sitting in a chair, a book in her lap. Her eyes were on the book, but she was mumbling the lines under her breath too. Dean felt somehow predictable, but at the same time kind of satisfied that his children seemed to be as into the movie as he was. Even Sam joined them at some point, although he sat in a chair far away.

For a moment, for the first time while watching a western, he was distracted by the company. The sight was beautiful, all the people he loved (and a witch) gathered around the TV enjoying his favourite movie with him. It should bring him joy, he thought, and he desperately wanted to feel satisfied, but as he turned to see Cas smile, holding their baby in his lap, he felt something drop in his stomach, a new kind of dread crawling up his spine along a warm, uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong. _This_ was wrong. This wasn’t going to last.

 _We don't fear ghosts or demons, we fear happiness,_ Sam had said, and he was spot-on right, because it made everything hurt so much more when whatever brought a smile to his face was taken away from him. All of these, the people that surrounded him, had an expiration date. Zep, Baltz and Mary would be gone, who knew when. Sam wanted his own family again now, apparently, and Dean wasn’t going to be selfish enough to stop him. And Cas… He was sorry to say he knew very well what it was like to miss the angel.

He’d meant to see another movie after that one, but decided he needed some fresh air instead.

“I’m gonna go to the store,” he announced as he stood up, dragging a hand across his face. “We need light bulbs.”

“Can I watch another movie, daddy?” Baltz asked, looking up with an unusual angelic expression in his face, one he used when he really wanted his parents to say yes to something.

Dean huffed a laugh. “Sure, kid.”

“I’ll go with you, Dean,” Cas announced. Dean did his best to suppress a sigh because he didn’t want the angel to feel unwelcomed and he really needed to get his shit together and stop being so dramatic, but he’d really would have prefered to run the errand on his own.

The angel followed him to the garage, going around the car as usual to sit in the passenger’s seat when Dean cleared his throat and looked up shyly, fidgeting with the keys in his hands.

“Actually, Cas- well, I- would you mind driving?” he asked, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “I just thought- you know, you carry Zep around all day. I just-”

Cas nodded in understanding, smiling gently. “You want to hold him. My apologies, I guess I’ve been selfish, he’s your son too.”

Dean gulped, a part of him envying how collected Castiel behaved whenever he refered of the two of them as a couple, and all but shuddered when the angel’s hands touched his as he put the baby in his arms. Zep adjusted quickly to the change, holding onto Dean’s shirt and smiling up, slightly drooling over himself.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean mumbled as he gave Cas the keys to his Baby.

The drive was silent, if you didn’t count the loud roar of the engine and Zep’s incoherent babbles. Dean looked down at him and held him close to his chest. He memorized every expression, every inch of his son’s face, every hue of green in his eyes, every smile, like it might be last time they’d see each other. The ride was having the exact opposite effect he’d intended, making him grow uneasier by the minute instead of helping him calm down. He nearly jumped when Castiel’s hand came to rest at his shoulder, gently shaking him.

“Dean, are you okay?”

Cas stole a quick, concerned glance in his direction.

“What are we doing, Cas?” Dean blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice low and serious, full of emotion.

Cas looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and waited for Dean to continue. The sudden expression of utter agony in Dean’s face completely threw the angel off.

“We’re… driving to the store?” he asked tentatively.

“Who are we kidding?” Dean went on as if the angel hadn’t said a word. “This isn’t real. These aren’t our kids. Not really. Someone will come to reclaim them, sooner or later. And then what’s gonna happen? How do I just go on like before after getting a glimpse of what it’d be like to have exactly what I’ve always wanted? When that other me comes back to get his children… It’s gonna kill me, Cas. He’s going to take everything for me.”

Dean’s grip around his son tightened, holding the baby flat against his chest, feeling his little belly pressing against his as Zep breathed in and out.

Cas was silent for a moment, too stunned to respond right away. Truth be told, he’d been worrying about this too, but Dean didn’t need to know that.

“Not everything, Dean,” he responded, voice soft with his own melancholy. “You’ll still have Sam. And I… I will remain here, with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“That’s not true and you know it. I know Sam has always wanted a shot at the apple pie life, and now things are relatively calm, he might actually go for it. I _want_ him to go for it. It was _me_ who drove him away from school in the first place, but not anymore, he deserves to have a family, if that’s what he wants, and I’ll be okay with that when he leaves. And you… There’s always something else that needs your attention. You’re always coming and going, sometimes you don’t even tell us where to.”

“Then ask me to stay.”

Dean looked up at him, long and hard, searching Cas’ face for any trace of hesitation. Cas turned his head around for just a moment, while they waited in a red traffic light. His expression was composed, but his eyes weren’t.

“And you’d stay?” Dean scoffed. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Dean…” Cas tilted his head, his voice grave but gentle. “Do you really need to ask? You know why.”

Dean clenched his teeth and was barely able to hold Cas’ incisive stare. The angel had said so little and yet _so much_ , he didn't need to explain any further, Dean understood what he meant. Of course Dean knew why, he just couldn't bring himself to _believe_ it. Cas would stay because he loved Dean, for whatever reason. How it was still in him to have any kind of affection for the pathetic excuse of a man Dean was, the Winchester couldn't understand. He loved the man enough to stay away from the family he'd had since the start of the universe, from Heaven, the one place _everyone_ wanted to be in, almost for good, and all to make his own tiny world with Dean, to be there for him everynight and everyday, to raise their children together.

But that wasn't Cas. Not _his_ Cas, anyway. In this universe, the slippery angel had lied to him and gone off his own way multiple times. Dean missed his presence every time and hoped he'd be back soon, prayed he'd be safe wherever the angel was, no matter what he was doing, but a part of him understood his absence; _of course_ , there were more important things out there than Dean Winchester. Not to mention more _worthy_ of Castiel’s time. This was a freaking _angel of the Lord_ , after all. He'd never expect for something so beautiful and magical to stay at his side forever, whatever the label between them. He'd barely ever managed to keep Sam, his own blood, at his side, so why would Cas stay? This angel didn't have the same ties to him because he didn't have the same feelings. Dean was fine with that, he had never questioned their friendship, for his own sake, really, because it was easier that way; it was more comfortable and less painful to miss Castiel as only a friend or a brother, and it was _a hell_ of a relief not to dig into Dean’s own fears and doubts.

That was, until he'd started doubting that the angel was so absolutely uninterested in his that way, until he looked at Dean like this, silently pleading with the man to understand whatever the angel was yelling at him telepathically. It was terrifying to have Cas look at him like that.

“You’re not him,” he said through the lump in his throat, and he sounded more aggravated than he would had liked to admit. “You’re not _that_ Cas.”

“Yes, I am. That will _always_ be me. In any universe, I know my feelings for you will always be the same. The difference, apparently, lies in whether I choose to act upon them or not, and whether you reciprocate them or not…” Cas smiled, but it was a rather sad smile.

Dean looked at him for a moment while a tense silence settled between them, his heart beating so fast it was like a drum in his ears, when in reality his brain was screaming with a mess of a emotions.

“Okay,” he said in a whisper that was barely audible. “Okay. Stay.”

Zep cooed softly, pulling his shirt, calling for his attention. Dean looked down, somehow grateful for the distraction; he needed an excuse to look away because he didn’t know where to go after that. Dean Winchester never begged but Cas had told him to ask, so he did, but what then? What did Castiel expect from him now?

Just a couple of minutes afterwards, Cas parked the car in front of the supermarket, and together they headed inside without any further exchange of words. Castiel seemed cool and collected, somehow happy, for reasons Dean couldn’t understand; _he_ was freaking out.

But not Cas. Cas had finally obtained the one thing he’d always wanted: reassurance that his reason to stay was valid, that Dean _wanted_ him there. Of course he’d prefer the nature of their relationship to be of a more intimate nature, but Dean could love whoever he wished, fuck whoever he desired, that was fine, as long as he wanted Castiel by his side, the angel would remain on Earth with him. As long as Dean was happy with their relationship, so would Cas.

So he smiled at Dean, encouraging the man to let go of his troubles for a little while, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him through the aisles of products. The touch made Dean blush but it somehow helped him relax; at least if the kids were gone, he wouldn’t be alone to drown in his misery. Cas would be there, like he usually was when Dean needed him, to understand and share his pain, and this time he’d _stay_.

They picked up lightbulbs, _loads_ of them, and some extra items; more food, some toys for Baltz, some extra clothes for the kids and for Cas… In comfortable silence they waited in line to pay for their items. The angel put their items in front of the cashier, his fingers gently brushing against Dean’s as the man passed them on, and he could swear Dean was enjoying his touch. There was even the faintest of smiled in his lips. An old woman with a gentle smile who eyed them curiously as she worked the items one by one, adding them to the list of things they needed to pay for. God blessed fake credit cards.

“Well, isn’t that a beautiful boy,” she commented, eyeing Zep with adoration. “What’s his name?”

“Zeppelin,” Dean answered with a proud grin.

“Like the band?”

Cas sighed. “Yes, like the band.”

The woman laughed. “You two make a nice couple.”

“We’re not a couple!” Dean nearly yelled back rather harshly, cheeks red, brow furrowed reprovingly. The woman stared at him, taken aback by his outburst, and Cas turned around too, surprised at the man’s tone. Both of them looked at each other for a moment, the angel no longer calm. There was something menacing about the way he was looking at Dean, anger clearly building up in him. Dean looked away and mumbled he was going to wait by the car before he left Cas standing alone in line.

None spoke during the drive back to the bunker. Dean stole a glance in Cas’ direction once or twice. His jaw was clenched, eyebrows together in concentration, hands firm on the steering-wheel.

“Give me the baby,” he ordered dryly once they were in the bunker and the car’s engine was off. Dean glanced at him suspiciously for a moment, but he didn’t want to say no, so he quietly obliged. Cas nearly ran out of the room, leaving him to take all the bags to the kitchen on his own.

He dropped the bags on the table and was about to start to put things away when Cas entered the kitchen.

“You and I need to talk, Dean. Now,” he said, then walked out of the kitchen. Dean stared after him, into the empty space he’d occupied just a moment ago, gut clenching with anxiety. This couldn’t be good. He wondered what would happen if he played dumb and didn’t follow Castiel back to probably on of their bedrooms, and again figured it’d be better to do things Cas’ way to avoid making a scene the children might walk into, so he turned on his heels and followed the angel, dragging his feet as if that would buy his time.

Dean already had an apology in the tip of his tongue as he stepped into Castiel’s bedroom, when suddenly the angel turned around, closing the door behind the human with a swift movement of his hand, and pushed Dean against the door, fisting his shirt in anger.

“Do you love me?” he growled, and the question seemed ridiculous spoken in so much anger.

“W-what?”

The angel let him go, shoving him against the door. He ran a hand through his hair, chest rising and falling rapidly. He took a few steps backs, looking at Dean as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“All this time- all these _years_ , Dean, I thought- I _watched_ you be with-” Cas’ breath hitched as he remembered the countless amount of women that had spent the night with Dean since they’d met, or all those times he’d stopped to watch the Winchester live with Lisa, sleep with Lisa, laugh with Lisa... “And it _hurt_ , but I was fine with it, I really was, because I wanted you to be happy. If that’s what you wanted, I was fine with it. But I’ve seen what we could be. I see what you could feel for me-”

“Stop comparing me with him!” Dean hissed. “I’m not him! I’m not that Dean!”

“Aren’t you?” Cas asked, getting in Dean’s personal space in just a few steps, pressing the human against the door again. A hand came to rest in Dean’s forehead and a dozen different memories of the two of them flashed before his eyes; hot make-up sessions in the morning, the two of them holding hands while Dean drove, late night cuddles in cheap motels… Dean and Cas in ways none of them would have dared imagine. “Tell me you don’t want that so I can just move on,” Cas begged under his breath, getting impossibly closer to Dean. “Say it.”

But Dean couldn’t speak, lost in the new memories. They felt so real, it was intoxicating, addictive. He could dwell in them forever. He wanted to be that Dean so badly, he understood now why everyone kept comparing him to that man; he was ten times better than Dean, more worthy, kinder, more honorable.

“I’ve loved you since before I even understood what the feeling was. I gave up _everything_ for you, and I’ve never asked for anything in return. I did it willingly because there’s no me without you. You asked me to stay and so help me my Father, I will never return to Heaven for as long as you live, but I _deserve_ to know. I deserve to know what I am to you. So please tell me it wasn’t your stupid human prejudices what’s been making the both of us miserable all this time.”

Castiel was shaking, with either angry or emotion, of perhaps both, Dean thought, and he was frozen, mouth agape. The angel looked down momentarily at his lips, and it wasn’t the first time he wondered what it’d be like to kiss them, but it certainly was the first time he considered _actually_ doing it. He leaned down, very slowly, and Dean could do nothing but stare at him and wait, too shocked to move. His hands let go of the fabric of his shirt, moving downwards to stop in Dean's hips, his fingers softly brushing the skin underneath Dean’s shirt. Dean nearly jumped at the skin on skin contact.

“Cas, stop,” Dean spoke the words out in an undignified choke, his hands shaking as they came to grab around Castiel’s wrists.

The angel look up. They were so close, only an inch of air separated their lips from each other.

“What are you so afraid of?” the angel whispered. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again. Cas sighed, looking at him with so much disappointment, it nearly brought tears to Dean’s eyes. He felt like a piece of shit, standing there, so clearly rejecting an angel, _his_ angel. “What’s more important, my feelings for you or what people will think about you? Am I not worth the struggle, Dean? Because you were,” Cas said before he slipped one hand behind Dean, turning the doorknob to open the door and walking out, leaving the man alone in the room, breathing heavily, lost in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources: samwinchesterblog ; castieled ; mariamaynot ; sooper-dee-dooper-natural ; danistiel ; justin-taylor


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> So, fun fact; last chapter’s conversation between Cas and Dean in the car was actually the first piece of the story I wrote like months ago, back in June I think. I barely edited any of it. I wasn’t sure when it was going to be in the story, but it’s basically how the idea of the story started, around the conversation.  
> Enjoy this one!

 

Dinner was an awkward affair. Castiel and Dean both sat in opposite ends of the table as a tense silence settled around the room. Rowena exchanged quizzical look with Sam, the man shrugging as he went over the events of the day in his head, wondering what he’d missed. Sure, he'd had an argument with Dean, but what was up with Cas? He'd been weird ever since they'd return from their supply run. Trust Dean to fuck things up in such a short amount of time. Even the kids could tell something was up, Mary's eyes flickering between her parents as a concerned frown settled in her face. Cas busied himself with the baby and the always messy task that was feeding him. The kid had grown too used to feeding on grace and was barely having any solids willingly. Dean stole glances in their direction from time to time, but other than that he focused his attention almost entirely in the rest of his children.

When dinner was over and Cas left with Balthazar to his room to read bedtime stories, Dean was somehow glad. Mary busied herself with the books Sam had gone back to the library to get, while Rowena read some old magic books next to her. The girl seemed to be slowly accepting and coming to terms with the witch's presence. Dean wanted to avoid Sam like the plague, knowing he probably wanted to ask if something had happened with Cas, so he excused himself pretending he was tired with a yawn and retreated to his bedroom.

He wanted to sleep, he _really_ did, because the other alternative was lying awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind playing the events and conversations of that day over and over again. He closed his eyes and tried to silence his mind but his brain was in a persistent uprising against him and it was way too early to sleep anyway.

In an attempt to busy himself with _anything_ , he grabbed the computer from the desk and sat back down on the bed. He put his headphones over his ears and chose a long list of songs to listen to for a while. Then he opened his browser and desperately tried to look for news of something fishy, something that could be a case, but his mind wouldn't let him concentrate and he found himself reading the same lines twice to really get the story.

 _You have to stay here with your kids anyway, moron_ , he scolded himself.

 _They have more than enough protection here without me_ , a more stupid part of him argued.

_Yeah, but like you don't want to leave anyway. You'll miss them as soon as you're out the door._

He groaned, knowing that was true. The kids' presence had an unknown but very real and scary expiration date. Was he going to be stupid enough to lose time with them just to keep running from his feelings? Did he even have it in him to walk away, run solo to some town, hunt some monster and sit alone in a bar drinking while he could be in a couch with his kids watching TV?

 _Man up_ , he thought, _it's time we deal with this._

He took a deep breath and laid the computer on the bed by his side. His hands came to rest over his eyes, AC/DC playing loudly in his ears but not loud enough to drown his thoughts.

Why was he being such a baby, anyway? Nothing bad had happened. If anything, _great_ things had happened. Cas _loved_ him, openly and thoroughly. He'd promised to stay but demanded to clarify the label that defined their relationship, and his request far fair and long overdue. Castiel could be his, _really_ his, not just his friend, not just his brother, but he had to be brave enough to take what he wanted, to ask.

The memories Cas had showed him flooded his mind now that he was alone and had time to actually go through them calmly. Dean supposed they were just some of the many borrowed memories Castiel had received. They had been rather innocent, sweet even, and his cheeks burned as he wondered about the many memories the angel _had not_ chosen to share with him. He wondered what it’d be life to touch Cas, to fuck him thoroughly in every possible way, and he gulped, feeling embarrassed and suddenly very aware of himself, like anyone could walk in at any moment and know he was having unholy thoughts. It was ridiculous the effect mere thoughts of Castiel naked had in him.

 _Tell me you don’t want that so I can just move on_ , Cas had said.

Dean hadn’t responded to that because he was battling an answer with himself. He wanted so desperately to say he didn’t want it, to end the drama there and then and go on like before, but it would have been a lie. Yet he hadn’t been able to say yes because Castiel would have probably kissed him if he had, and he wasn’t ready for that. He needed to mentally prepare for that.

_So, we’re doing this? Are we mentally preparing to kiss Cas?_

He hated to admit it, but Sam was right; here he was, knowingly sabotaging his own chance at being happy. He’d done it for a long time but in a more subconscious level. Now, it was impossible to deny his feelings for Cas. As terrifying as it was, he wanted the angel for himself. His cheeks flushed while he thought of what _really being_ with Cas, really giving himself to the angel implied, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to poke that idea with a ten inch stick, so he quickly moved on from that train of thought before he could scare himself back into the closet.

 _Baby steps,_ he told himself.

Kissing Cas. That couldn’t be so bad, could it? He’d spent years stealing glances at the angel’s lips. He’d always tried hard not to think about it but he wasn’t running away from the idea now. No, instead there was something new in him rising with the idea, a kind of eager curiosity. He knew Cas didn’t have much experience, but it was hard to imagine those lips feeling anything but great on his. He tried to imagine what the warmth of that mouth on his would feel like, their tongues playing with each other while Dean pressed him against the mattress, and his body reacted with a span of interested settling low in his belly. He shifted in the bed, wondering if he should stop or if he should keep entertaining the idea.

He shifted again, his elbow bumping into the computer, nearly sending it off the edge of the bed. He sat up and grabbed the computer just in time, pressing several random keys as his hands grabbed around whatever part of the small machine they could reach. He placed the computer on his lat and sighed, then his eyes wandered over the folder that had opened. Several small icons with familiar faces were listed before him. Something heavy dropped inside his gut at his eyes quickly ran through them. He knew the pictures were there, of course he did; he’d put them there after all, but he rarely ever went through them because it usually brought tears to his eyes. The collection of photographs of friends and family was Dean’s private treasure. Most were old, since most his loved ones were long gone, with only some recent pictures of Sam or Cas here and there. He’d started the collection years ago, snapping pictures of the people he loved with his phone mostly when they weren’t looking, and he’d also scanned his old family pictures to make sure he had a copy of them somewhere safe in the internet in case something happened to the originals. He couldn’t help himself and opened the first one. It was quite an old one, of Sam sleeping in the car, mouth hanging open in a rather unflattering way. He snorted before moving on the next one, and his laughter died in his throat as Charlie’s eyes stared back at him. The women was in the couch with the computer in her lap and her feet up in a chair. She was wearing Star Wars thick winter socks and had looked up in time to catch Dean taking the photo.

 _The leviathans didn't break free,_ Cas had said.

So basically Charlie would be alive if it weren’t for him. If he’d been brave enough to just accept his feelings for Cas, the angel would have stayed by his side and the pile of messed that had followed his decision to take in the souls wouldn’t have happened. She’d be alive, comfortable in her normal life. So would Bobby and probably Kevin, Cas would had been strong enough to save him with his grace all powered up. Their deaths was on him. He flickered through the photos, stopping longer in some than others. How many of their loved ones’ deaths were indirectly his fault? It made staring back at her that much harder. 

Dean closed the computer with unnecessary force, teeth clenching as he fought back tears. He decided he needed alcohol that night, and on his way to the kitchen he caught sight of Cas in Balthazar’s room, his back against the headboard. He had an arm around the boy and Zep was comfortably seated on his lap. He could hear his grave voice as he read some sweet story about a bear to his boys. He wanted to join in so badly, to lay next to Cas and just listen to the sound of his voice, but the angel was upset with him and would probably not welcome him right now. He wished he could at stay there, watching them, because this beautiful sight wasn’t going to last much longer, but he wasn’t a creep, so he moved on. It wasn’t the time or place to talk to Cas and he was barely keeping himself together anyway. He took two beers from the fridge before making his way back to his bedroom.

Their relationship hadn’t even started and he was already screwing things up. What if it was a mistake to take things to the next level? He was unsure of his every move, he would inevitably say or do something stupid sooner or later and hurt Cas. What if this version of himself just wasn’t good enough anymore to make this work? He couldn’t even fantasize with the man without feeling filthy. What if Cas realised that too? If they crossed the line and they didn’t make it, and they ruined their friendship… What then?

He shook his head, desperately holding on to the idea that Cas would stay with him, no matter what. He’d _promised_ he would. It seemed so unlikely, but he needed to believe in something, in _Cas._

 _Tomorrow_ , he told himself while he had any resolution in him left. _Tomorrow I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna talk to Cas. We’ve suffered long enough._

Balthazar was asleep before Castiel finished the story. He kissed the boy’s forehead nonetheless, and went to put Zep down for the night. Mary came looking for him not long after that to share her grace with him. With a simple touch, a piece of her inmensurable powers moved from her to him. Her eyes fluttered closed and Cas caught her in his arms gently, then took her to her room and laid her on the bed, pulling the covers on top of her.

“Thank you, Mary,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her forehead.

Castiel could already feel himself growing stronger. He wasn’t strong enough that his wings would start healing, but he was getting there. He’d be patient, though, accepting whatever his daughter was willing to give and no more.

Back in his room, he wondered if he should look for Dean, resume the conversation they’d had earlier, but he told himself not to be so pathetic, so eager. Dean would either come to him when he was ready to talk, or he wouldn’t, meaning there was nothing else to talk about. If the man didn’t want him, Cas would understand and respect that, but if all that was keeping Dean at bay was stupid, homophobic fears… It angered him. Dean wasn’t homophobic, he’d never said a single word against same-sex couples in all the years Cas had accompanied him, and had never looked down on couples that passed them in the street, so why was it so wrong for him to _be_ in one? Apparently he had a preference for women, but if Castiel had learned anything from the borrowed memories was that the angel in the form of a man could make Dean moan in pleasure just as much as any other woman.

Castiel knew he’d stay with Dean, whatever the man decided to do about their relationship, because he could not turn his back on him. But now it was finally evident to the angel that Dean had in fact some degree of feelings for him, it’d be harder to sit around pretending he hadn’t declared his love openly. He’d seen it on his face, when he’d asked Castiel to stay; he’d seen his own affection reflected back at him in those sad, pleading green eyes, and it had made him profoundly happy to finally feel like he belonged somewhere, but then Dean had ruined it ruined with a childish fit. A part of him couldn’t help but be hopeful that Dean would get over it, at least in the privacy of their home. He could love Dean in private, that’d be more than enough for him. But to live with the man, stay with him until he died, knowing they loved each other but couldn’t be together because of incomprehensible human prejudices… That would make him miserable.

The next day, Dean’s anxiety woke him up as effectively as a slap in the face. Dean laid on the bed with his eyes opened, unwilling to get out of bed, buying time as he tried to put his thoughts in orders and come up with what he wanted to say to the angel. How was he even going to start that conversation? What was even his _goal_ ? Was he going to establish a relationship with Cas just like that? ‘ _Hey, Cas, did you change Zep’s diaper? By the way, we’re together now’._ He groaned at his own stupidity. He could get almost any strange woman to go back to his motel room with him in less than an hour without so much as breaking a sweat, but he couldn’t tell his best friend he loved him.

His hands were shaking as he walked to the kitchen, so he put them inside his jeans’ pockets.

“Dad?”

Dean jumped and turned on his heels. Mary was eyeing him with curiosity, not really looking at him in the eyes, and he realised she must be looking at his soul. He blushed, a hand coming to rest on his chest as if he could cover the damn thing.

“Sorry,” she said, finally looking up at his eyes. “I didn't mean to pry. It's your soul… it’s all over the place. It's kind of distracting. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded, smiling at the girl, extending his hand in her direction. She took it without hesitation, returning the smile though she didn’t look convinced at all that he was merely fine.

“It didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Mary explained as they walked into the kitchen. “You’re just… Shining very bright and moving all over. Are we doing something fun today?”

He blushed, wondering if his soul was more excited than his brain was willing to admit. He was nervous as fuck, but there was this tiny bit of faith inside him that told him everything was going to be alright.

“I don’t know. Wanna do something fun with me later?”

She shrugged. “I’ve classes with Sam all morning. Can we play outside after lunch? I think Baltz would like to stretch his wings.”

Dean smiled at the way she always thoughtful of her younger siblings. “Sure we can.”

Sam, Balthazar and Castiel were already in the kitchen, breakfast was already served and the angel was feeding a bottle of milk to his baby boy. The moment Zep laid eyes on his other father, he completely forgot about breakfast, pushing Cas’ hand away and stretching his chubby little arms in Dean’s direction.

“Good morning, m’boy,” Dean greeted him in a sweet voice, reaching for the baby out of instinct. He stopped for a second to look at the angel he passed the baby to him. He smiled at Cas, a shy small ghost of a grin, and the angel stared at him back with suspicion and confusion as he sat down before his expression softened.

“Good morning, Dean,” he said, all traces of any bitterness between them gone.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean smiled.

Balthazar looked back and forward between them, watching Dean’s soul light up at the sight of the angel's smile, and he turned to look at his sister with a smug smirk. Mary rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“What?” Dean asked, turning around to see her.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, busying herself with breakfast quickly.

Sam and Mary left when the girl finished her breakfast, although this time they decided to study in a diner instead of the library. Sam ordered coffee and Mary made a summary of what she’d understood what he’d made her read. She learned fast, and Sam wondered if she was particularly smart or if it was an angel thing, maybe her mind developed faster or something. Either way, she was bright and curious and lent over the table to better listen to everything Sam had to say. He realised he loved teaching, and while she did some math exercises, he took his computer out of his bag and opened some websites to check out some university programs he could apply too. Maybe law school was behind him, but there were other things he could do, other normal jobs that might give him some sort of joy…

Suddenly a plate of waffles with blueberries and strawberries with two forks appeared in front of him. He looked up, confused.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t order these,” he said.

“I know,” the waitress said, blushing slightly. “It’s my treat. You guys seem super busy. Thought you might need the fuel. I've always had the hardest time studying in the morning.”

Mary looked up from her book, stealing a glance in her direction; her soul was small, because it was quiet, not because it didn’t have enough love or energy. In fact, it carried a lot of love. She smiled, knowing instantly that this was a kind type of person, one of those people who probably smiled at everyone in the street and tried to make everyone’s day a little better. 

Sam chuckled and did a double take, eyes flickering between the woman and the food.

He hadn’t really noticed her the first time she came to ask them what they wanted, but this time he stopped to _really_ look at her. He rarely allowed himself to have any interest in women, but he wanted to change that if he was going to make any developments in his life. She was a couple of years younger than he was, surely, and she looked kind of awkward but in an adorable sort of way. She shifted with embarrassment as the attractive man regarded her, fidgeting with a lock of her brown hair. She was wearing red, old-fashioned glasses and behind those were really dark, brown eyes. There was something almost mysterious about them, but there was nothing but kindness in them.

"Thank you," he said before throwing a blueberry into his mouth.

“Yeah, well, you have a nice… err- study session?” she grinned, feeling kind of silly, and walked away.

Sam huffed a laugh, mumbled ‘thanks’ although she had already turned away, and Mary looked down at her book again, smiling to herself, pretending she didn’t just see something in her uncle’s soul change. She definitely didn’t catch him looking at the woman a couple of times either...

Dean desperately wanted to catch Castiel alone, but he knew he’d probably have to wait until Sam was back to distract Baltz because the boy was everywhere with them. Cas was in the couch, telling their son about the creation of the world, and even Dean sat and listened with interest. A comfortable peace had settled between them again, but the eldest Winchester was still in the edge of his seat, dying to get this over with now that he’d make up his mind, to have the big talk, to take the leap of faith. He felt sick in his stomach, it twisted painfully with nerves like it hadn’t since the day he faced Amara for the last time with all that souls inside him. He was deadly afraid and terribly impatient.

When Sam came back with Mary, both of them seemed in a great mood. They had lunch and Dean cursed under his breath because Cas never moved away from his children. He thrived in their presence, smiled more than he had in years, and he looked beautiful, so devastatingly beautiful, sitting around the table surrounded by their children.

Even Rowena joined them after lunch when they headed out the bunker and into the woods. Balthazar ran out the door like a maniac. He spread his wings and flew, just a couple of meters at the time, but he glowed with pride anyway and looked back with a smile towards their parents, to make sure they’d seen him fly successfully. Dean gave him a thumb up and Cas grinned proudly, following the awkward movement of his son’s wings with his eyes. Mary followed him around, disappearing for a second and then appearing beside him, teasing him as he tried to catch her, but she was faster. Their laughter combined with the soft dance of the leaves in the air. It was the sweetest melody Dean had ever heard, it was like music in his ears. Zep looked around looking just as happy as Dean walked around the forest with the baby in his arms, following the children as they popped into existence just a few meters in front of him. Castiel walked behind him, Sam and Rowena at either side of him, his eyes glued to Dean’s back, a soft grin in his lips. He allowed himself to spy for just a moment into Dean’s soul and it made him happy to finally see the person he loved literally glow with joy.

Before it got dark, Dean called the kids to get back inside. Dinner that night was probably the nicest they’d ever had; the food wasn’t too bad, if Dean was being honest with himself, despite it consisting on a lot of vegetables (though nothing beat a burger in his opinion), and for the first time, no one was upset with anyone, and all of them were relatively happy, despite Dean getting more nervous by the minute. He offered to read Balthazar a story this time so he could have some distraction before the big moment, because he felt he was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t relax. It took nearly three stories to get the boy to sleep. He pulled the covers over the boy and mumbled a goodbye before he stood up and left.

Dean stood in the hallway, suddenly frozen. His heart was like a drum in his ears and he was nearly sweating. Self-doubt was making itself present, a voice in the back of his mind telling him not to go to Cas’ bedroom, it wasn’t normal to have good things, it didn’t last. He wasn’t good enough for the angel, he couldn’t even handle the thought of kissing him, how was Dean going to love him like he deserved?

He was staring at the door of his bedroom, thinking he could so easily go in and hide, when Cas came out of Mary’s bedroom. They stared at each other for a moment before Cas smiled at him gently. It was all he needed to go on with his choice.

“Cas, can we talk?” he said and ignored the way his voice had sounded weird and probably way too high-pitched.

Cas swallowed hard, looking suddenly nervous, and for some reason that made Dean feel somehow relieved; well, at least he wasn’t alone in the feeling.

"Okay," he finally said and gestured to the opened door of his room. Dean had to order his legs to move as he followed the angel into the room. Cas was standing by the crib, looking down at his sleeping baby for a second before he turned around and looked at him expectantly, waiting for Dean to start talking. The poor human was about to have a stroke while a weird silence filled the room.

 _For God’s sake, say something!_ he yelled at himself.

Dean shifted where he stood and assessed the situation as he tried to think of a way to sort the mess of thoughts in his mind into order. His hands felt sweaty and his heart beat so fast, it felt like it was going to explode right out of his chest.

“I just… I wanted to say that you were right… About a lot of things. And that I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I realise I’ve never thanked you, not out loud at least, for- well, for _everything_ , really. There’s never been anything you weren’t willing to do for us.”

“For you, I did it for you,” Cas corrected him in a quiet voice. It’s not that he doesn’t love Sam too, but if he was honest with himself, he’d rebelled for Dean, in the end. “And you don’t need to thank me. I chose to do those things because I love you.”

The angel spoke calmly, like he was discussing the weather and not laying his feelings out in the open so beautifully for Dean to hear. To him, it sounded like it was Castiel’s instinct to love this much, it came out of him so naturally, Dean was wondering now how he’d been so blind to those feelings before. He couldn’t do much more than nod, looking into those shiny, blue eyes. He can’t hold the weight of Cas’ persistent gaze and opted to move to sit in the bed, resting his hands in his knees, drying them up against the fabric of his jeans.

“Cas, I- what happened the other day-” he swallowed hard as the memory came back to him, his voice angry and offended as he lashed out on a poor woman that had been nothing but kind to him, and the angel’s look of disapproval and confusion… That’d been the moment Dean had given himself away, hadn’t it? His childish outburst had finally made the angel realise what were Dean’s true preoccupations. They’d been fine just minutes before, even after Castiel had admitted to his feelings, but the moment somehow had dared suggest Dean Winchester was gay...

He sighed, having no real idea how to start this conversation. He’d played it in his mind so many times, but now he was lost for words again in the presence of the angel.

“Look, man, I don’t know how to do this, okay? I just- I _don’t know_ . I don’t know how to love you, Cas. This is- this is _hard_ for me, okay?”

Shame burned furiously through his veins as his heart pumped blood back and forth in his body. And, at the same time, he was ashamed _of feeling ashamed_ . Dean would never look down on a man who was in love with another man. So why was it so wrong for him to feel this way about Castiel? If Dean Winchester should love anyone at all, in _that_ way, then it _should_ be his best-friend. The _only_ best-friend he’d ever had; the one that pulled him out of Hell; the one that gave everything up trying to save him, protect him. It made sense that he should love Cas, but he was so damn ashamed of it. He had lived up to the macho-man stereotype so easily, all his life; he’d been _raised_ to be like that by John, all his idols were like that, the other men and fellow hunters in his life had been like that. Women, he had to like _women_ , that was the rule. A macho-man doesn’t love other men. And still, he’d never tell another man he was less of a man simply because he loved another man.

“All my life, I’ve been… a _certain way_ . And then you come along,” Dean gestures towards the angel, but doesn’t dare looking up at him, “and you make me- you make me _feel_ things that I- I don’t know how to handle it, alright? I’m not saying that I’m right here, I know I’m behaving like an asshole but- this is new for me. And on top of that, I’m afraid. I’m so goddamn afraid, Cas, that I’m going to hurt you. That- that I’ll _disappoint_ you. And if I don’t make it with you, if you- _when_ you realise that I’m not good enough for you, then-” Dean’s breathed hitched and he shrugged to avoid shivering, lost for words again. He had to stop speaking before he choked with the lump that was quickly forming in his throat. He swallowed hard, but it remained there.

There they were, his darkest, deepest secrets and fears out in the open. He would have never imagined he’d ever actually say those things out loud, and now that he did, now that he acknowledged them, they were biggest and scarier than ever. What if he allowed himself to love Castiel, _really_ love him, and then he lost him, by the hand of an enemy or by the angel’s own choice to leave him? Because Dean _was_ going to lose him, eventually. It was his curse. Everyone he loved, sooner or later, left him. He’d only ever managed to keep Sam, and God knew how much that had costed him, how hard he’d had to fight to keep his brother by his side.

He felt the mattress sinking as Castiel sat next to him, and buried his face in his hands, hiding the tears that were forming in his eyes despite of himself.

“Dean…” Cas spoke in soft voice, moved by Dean’s sudden confession and vulnerability. “Is that really what you think? That you’re not good enough?”

Dean couldn’t answer. He pressed the palm of his hands hard against his eyes. He could feel the tears making his skin wet there. He didn’t want to cry, didn’t like to cry in front of people…

“That’s funny,” Castiel said, though there’s not a trace of humour in his tone, “that’s what I always thought about myself, too… That’s the reason why I never bothered changing vessels. I didn’t think it would make a difference, I was convinced you wouldn’t love me that way anyway, even if I had the correct form.”

“Cas…” Dean looked up, his heart aching at those words. Had he made the angel feel that way, like he was undeserving of his affection?

“I’m sorry to hear you feel the same way, Dean. Perhaps I should have been more straightforward with you, should have made you feel more loved. All these years, I stayed and watched over you as best I could. I never expected anything in return, I just wanted you to be safe. I would have been glad to watch you form a family with Lisa or whoever you chose, I wanted you to find that happiness,” Cas leaned closer, placing a hand in the bed behind Dean’s back, and softly reaching to place his other hand in Dean’s neck. He can feel Dean’s heart beating furiously as the man looked at him with a mix of emotions; embarrassment at the unusual closeness, sadness still painted in his eyes, but not without something similar to excitement and anticipation to accompany that look. “Nothing’s ever easy for us, Dean, so I don’t expect this to be any different, and we can take it as slow as you wish,” he offered Dean a small smile as he leaned ever closer. “But I know it can be great, I’ve seen it. I can make you happy and that's all I've ever wanted for you. _I_ do know how to love you, so if you just let me show you…”

Dean was frozen as Cas closed his eyes and broke the tiny space left between them. His lips met Dean’s and the man couldn’t do anything but stay still, hands gripping the bed covers with unnecessary force. Cas’ stubble gently rasped against his own. It was something he’d never felt before in a kiss, but he could get used to it. Dean closed his eyes too and took a deep breath, taking in the smell of Cas. It was good,  imprinted forever in his memory; something manly, but also something like the smell of grass after it rains.

Cas’ hand moved to the back Dean’s neck and gently pulled Dean forward, deeper into the kiss, his tongue brushing against Dean’s lips, asking for permission. Dean’s lips parted and allowed Castiel’s tongue to find his own to play with. He felt goddamn _butterflies_ in his stomach and a part of him was in automatic mode as the other couldn’t really process that he’s _actually_ kissing Cas. He’d dreamed about it, though he’d never admit it to anyone, and he’d even thought about it in shameful, drunken nights, but he’d always been sure it’d be nothing more than that, a silly, embarrassing thought of his twisted unconsciousness. And Cas, he was so much better than he’d imagined him to be. He kissed Dean slowly but with determination, he took what he wanted and gave Dean what he didn’t know he needed. And, _fuck_ , his uneven breath, his hmms here and there, were the unholiest sounds he’d ever heard.

Before Dean knew it, Cas’ mouth left his. Dean found himself leaning forward out of instinct, searching for those lips again, but Cas rested his forehead in his and kept their lips away from each other.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” the angel asked, half teasing, half hoping he really hadn’t been bad, because he didn’t have even a third of the experience Dean had.

“No, it wasn’t,” Dean was embarrassingly out of breath. “But, Cas, I meant what I said…” he looked down at his hands. “I’ve no idea how to do this…I’m not a man of big gestures, alright? I don't know how to do that, I'm- I’m not romantic. Fancy dinners, holding hands in the park, big public displays of love- that ain't me and you need to know that now. But I love you and I will never love anyone more, I will never want anyone else.”

Dean looked up, not knowing what to expect, and all but melted in the sea of affection in Cas’ eyes.

“Fair enough, Dean,” Cas said, his voice soft, grinning like an idiot in love. He thought it was funny how Dean thought he wasn’t one for big gestures, because this meant the world to the angel. He’d trade millions of years of Heaven for just this moment. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

The man gulped, cheeks flushing impossibly redder.

“Relax, Dean, I mean for sleeping, nothing else,” Cas rolled his eyes slightly, pulling away from him. He stood up and took the trench-coat and suit jacket off, hanging them on the back of his chair.

Dean nodded silently, kicking his his shoes off and laying down on the bed. He felt stupid going to bed on his jeans, Cas had seen him without pants before, but at the moment he was unwilling to strip. He watched the angel moved around the bed and climb up on the other side. He accommodated a pillow between his back and the headboard. They looked at each other for a moment, then Cas extended an arm, inviting him to get closer. Dean blushed but accepted the invitation, moving on the mattress until his head was pressed against the angel’s side. He didn’t put his arms or leg around him, but he pressed his body against Castiel’s and closed his eyes as Cas’ arm came down to rest on his back, pulling him as close as possible.

Just as he was relaxing and his mind was starting to quiet and fall asleep, Castiel whispered softly, “I’ll wait for as long as you want to, but just so you know, when you decide to take me or let me take you, you’re going to love it.”

Dean tensed with embarrassment and downright excitement at those words, but didn’t open his eyes. Castiel chuckled softly, reading his silence just right, while drawing circles with his thumb on Dean’s back, relishing in having the upper hand, for once, in their relationship. But for now, this was enough; it was _more_ than enough, really, it was everything he’d always wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (lovely tumblr users): justjensenanddean ; demondetoxmanual ; fuckyeahsupernaturall ; deans-trenchcoat-baby ; supernaturalfreewill ; supernaturaldaily ; hallowedbecastiel


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Sorry for the slow pace lately, I've been super busy with end of term assignments and finals. This chapter isn't as long as I'd want it to be but it's late and I'm /dead/. I will update as soon as possible!  
> Enjoy this one.

Castiel watched over Dean all night, his hands running up and down the man’s back soothingly, making his presence known through the night, helping him relax and avoid nightmares. At some point, Dean threw an arm over his stomach and buried his face against his side, holding Cas still in place. He didn’t mind being trapped under Dean. If anything, he was a little thankful that Dean was freely holding onto him while unconscious. He wondered how long it’d take for the eldest Winchester to grow out of his embarrassment and become physical with him. _Don’t be greedy_ , he told himself, _one step at the time_.

He couldn't help waking up Dean early in the morning when their baby boy decided it was time to have breakfast and threatened to start crying if the angel didn’t get up and get him out of the crib. He tried not to disturb the man as he sneaked out of bed, but Dean was usually a light sleeper and started into consciousness despite Castiel's efforts.

"Go back to sleep, Dean," Cas whispered gently, tentatively running a hand through Dean's hair before he moved towards the crib. Dean opened one eye to see Castiel taking Zep into his arms, showering the boy with soft kisses on the cheek as he mumbled something in Enochian.

"Feeding time?" Dean asked with a very grave, sleepy voice, blinking several times, adjusting to the light in the room.

Cas nodded.

"Go get the bottle ready, I'll change his diaper," Dean said, gesturing the angel to bring the baby to bed with him.

"That's alright, Dean, you should sleep."

"Nah, it's okay, I wanna help."

The man rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, yawned and got up to take the baby from Cas' arms.

"Morning, son," he mumbled before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "God bless you for sleeping through the whole night."

Cas chuckled, staying for a moment to take pleasure in the sweet sight on Dean embracing their son, who calmly leaned into his chest like he knew he belonged there, before he walked out of the room. Dean knew they could just clean the boy up with grace but for some reason he felt it wasn't very hygienic, so they had stocked up in diapers. Besides, it'd be terrible use of angel grace, surely not what God had intended it to exist for. Cas had everything they needed to change the boy right there in his room, so Dean grabbed the gear and set the baby down on the bed over a towel. Zep shifted, uncomfortable, and kicked his legs, trying to roll to get on his stomach.

“Zep, come on, I’ll pay you good money if you sit still,” Dean mumbled, fighting the nephilim to keep him in place; he had the strength of a fully-grown man and he wasn’t even really trying to use his grace.

Dean pulled from the diaper’s tapes, slid the thing off and folded it into a ball, wrinkling his nose in disgust. _Man up, man_ , he told himself, _it’s not your first diaper change and hell, apparently won’t be the last. Can’t let Cas do all the work._

He cleaned his son quicker than he’d thought he would and with a triumphant smile he sat in the bed again, his back on the headboard and the baby in his lap right before Cas came back. The angel went to sit on the edge of the bed and handed over the bottle silently. Dean reached for it and for just a moment his hand lingered over the angel’s. Cas smiled before Dean pulled away. Zep reached forwards eagerly, placing his tiny hands over Dean’s as his dad held the bottle to his face, one of his little hands wrapped completely around just one of Dean’s fingers. The boy sucked the silicone nipple impatiently, kicking his feet with enthusiasm.

“Boy, you’ve got an appetite,” Dean told him, smiling fondly down at him. “That’s all Winchester, you know?”

Zeppelin returned the smile, milk accidentally running down his chin. Castiel chuckled and reached to wipe it off with a swift movement of his thumb. The boy’s soul lit up as his eyes flickered back and forth between his parents; this was a very familiar scene for him, something that he’d missed without knowing it, the sweet presence of his parent’s soul and grace together in their usual morning routine. All he wanted was their attention, their love.

“I wish you could see his soul when he looks at you,” Cas said under his breath, voice dreamy and sweet.

Dean sighed, but it wasn’t the good kind of sigh, and Cas looked up, taken aback. Something dark flashed behind the man’s eyes and he looked quickly down again before Castiel could read him. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to ruin the moment, but his walls had weakened and it was harder to lie to the angel now.

“Dean, what is it?”

“Nothing, never mind. I’m sorry,” Dean shook his head, lifting his head up for just a moment to smile at him, but it was a hollow smile, nothing like the sweet grin he’d wore just minutes ago for their son.

“Don’t do that… Talk to me.”

With a soft grimace painted across his face, he looked up. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it for a couple of seconds, then opened it again. "Do you think he knows?... That I'm not really his father?"

Cas remained silent for a moment as he tried to follow Dean’s line of thought.

"Dean..."

The man looked down again. He didn't want to take his eyes off of his son. He felt safe when he let himself get lost in those shiny, hopeful green eyes Zeppelin had. There was so much goodness in them, he could swear he could almost see his son’s pure soul reflected on them… But he felt like he was tricking the boy. Did he know he wasn’t _really_ his father? Did he know he was an impostor? All that love… It wasn’t supposed to be directed at him, it was meant for someone else.

"Forget it,” he mumbled. "It's stupid, sorry."

"No, it isn't. If anyone understands how you feel, it's me... You wish them well so you hope they'll see their parents again, but you're afraid of losing them so a selfish part of you, one that you hate but can’t deny, secretly wishes they’d stay forever..."

Dean swallowed through the hard lump on his throat. He nodded in agreement, because that's exactly how he felt though he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud like the angel had, but he instantly felt like a scumbag for admitting to thinking such despicable things.

“I do want them to see their parents, Cas. I do. I swear,” Dean whispered, mostly to try and convince himself he wasn’t an awful person than to convince the angel.

"I know you do, Dean. You’re not a bad person for fearing their departure. To love is to fear separation.”

Dean nodded, not knowing what else to say. Zep made funny noises as he sucked greedily at the nipple, his eyes closing a little as he settled comfortably against Dean.

“You know, even if they left,” Cas said after a while, “we know where they are now. We could visit them in their universe.”

Dean huffed a laugh and looked up, holding his gaze for a moment before speaking. "You know it wouldn't be the same, Cas. Going from being parents to- to some weird kind of interdimensional stepdad or uncle or- there's not even an easy way to describe it."

"Well... I can make you a parent, if that's what you want."

Dean's cheeks burned a furious shade of red.

"Cas-"

The angel held a hand up to stop him. "Whenever you're ready, all you need to do is ask,” he simply shrugged. “I'd love to make you that happy, and I'd like to be a parent myself. I know we could never replace these children, but... Perhaps there's someone else meant for us. Our own family."

"Cas..." Dean breathed out, his tone soft and bittersweet. Slowly but with determination, he reached out to grab Cas' hand. The angel opened his hand, turning his palm up to interlock their fingers. They both sat in silence for a moment, looking down at their hands, taking in the warmth of the other's skin against their own. It was the first time Dean initiated physical contact between them for the sole purpose of showing affection, and it felt rather good, the man though. He couldn't help the cheesy butterflies in his stomach as the corner of Cas' lips shyly curved up. This was enough for him, the angel thought. He could wait for Dean for as long as the man wanted, because knowing he was loved was more than enough for him. He could hardly believe he was allowed to touch the man at all. “I… I don’t think it’s the time to think about that. I’m not saying no-” he added quickly, as embarrassed as he was to say that out loud, because he didn’t want the angel to get the wrong idea; he _did_ want children of his own too. “I’m just saying… Let’s worry about the tiny army of nephilim we’ve got on our hands right now.”

Cas nodded and lifted from the bed, pulling gently from Dean’s hands.

“Come on, you need breakfast too. Sam made coffee.”

“Oh, _God_ , yes, coffee please,” Dean sighed and allowed himself to be dragged out of bed. As soon as Castiel opened the door though, the angel himself dropped his hand. The other wasn’t surprised, but grateful; surely Cas knew he wasn’t ready for public displays of affection, and it was nice of him to save him the embarrassment and guilty of asking not to be touched in front of others. And yet his skin seemed to tingle where the touch of the angel was now absent, as if his it missed the warmth.

Even Sam looked sleepy, leaning against the counter with a mug of hot coffee in his hand, which told Dean it was way, _way_ early for him to be up if Sam, who was that awful type of happy morning person, still looked sleepy.

“What are _you_ doing up?” Sam asked, frowning at his brother through narrowed and tired eyes.

“Good morning to you too, bitch,” Dean mumbled as he sat down on a chair to feed Zep more comfortably.

“Language, Dean,” Cas warned him lazily, pouring some coffee into a mug for Dean.

“Seriously, though. I think I haven’t seen you up this early in _years_ ,” Sam smirked.

“Well, what can I say? Zep woke me up. Parenthood, am I right?”

Dean wore a kind of proud smile, rejoicing in his new title of parent. It gave him an all new sense of purpose.

Sam’s frown intensified. “Zep…?”

_But Zep sleeps in Cas’ room,_ Sam’s mind thought quickly. _If he woke him up, it means Dean slept in- nah, it can’t be. He-? No, it_ can’t _be._

He opened his eyes to focus them better, suddenly awake. He blinked a bunch of times to get used to the brightness of the lights and his eyes went from one man to the other as Cas walked towards Dean and put a mug of coffee and two toasts in front of him. Any trace of awkwardness between them was absolutely gone, though there still seemed to be some sort of unresolved tension between them, but of a different nature, a sort of positive one… There was this air about them that made Sam feel there was an secret between them, a strange easiness that wasn’t very normal in Dean…

_Oh. My. God. They're together, aren't they!?_

Sam nearly choked on his coffee, turning around to hide his expression from Dean.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked. His younger brother nodded furiously is response. He eyed him curiously, then shook his head, laughing at his dumb brother, and turned back around to complete his breakfast.

Zep finished his bottle and Dean propped him up against his chest and started patting his back to get that infamous post-meal burp out of him.

“I can’t believe this is my life now,” Dean said with an exaggerated sigh, but if this was the worst part of parenthood, he’d take it.

“Good mor-”

Mary stopped dead in her tracks, the hand that had been rubbing against his eyes very slowly lowering as she narrowed her eyes at Dean.

“W-what?” he asked, blushing. He knew _exactly what_.

The girl blushed too and suppressed a smile. “Nothing,” she said trying (rather unconvincingly) to sound casual, and did her best not to stare at Dean’s soul as she walked right passed it. The change in it was drastic. It still wasn’t like her father’s soul, but it was certainly an improvement; a fire had been set ablaze in Dean’s soul, and with time it could consume all the darkness, all the fear, all the pain. She walked right towards Sam, who was pouring tea into a mug for her. The girl quickly exchanged a knowing look with her uncle. Sam smiled at her rather hysterically for a moment, his eyes wide opened, before he looked down and cleared his tone.

All attempts to keep any kind of discretion and let Dean and Cas handle whatever was obviously happening between them in peace and privacy, where thrown off the board when Balthazar walked into the room.

The boy took a simple glance in his father’s direction and gasped dramatically. “It’s happening!” he managed to squeal with excitement before Mary appeared by his side and then disappeared the both of them from the kitchen at the following second. Sam couldn’t help snorting and choking in his coffee, bending over the sink to spit it out. Cas looked around confused while Dean blushed furiously. Yeah, he knew, he could _feel_ the shift if his soul, how it desperately clung into hope, into the idea of how Cas could change his life…

“Balthazar!” Mary scolded the boy when they reappeared in her room a second after. She couldn’t help smiling though she tried to look serious. “Shut up, you’re gonna freak dad out!”

"No flying inside the bunker!" both of them heard Dean yelled from the kitchen, but completely ignored him.

“You saw it too, right?” he grinned and clapped his hands together, jumping once in his place.

“Of course, I saw it,” she rolled her eyes but returned his grin.

“I _told_ you we were here for a reason,” he threw his hands up in victory.

“Like that proves anything.”

But her thoughts quickly shifted to uncle Sam and that girl at the diner… Maybe aunt Clara wasn’t a choice anymore, but that other woman was good and kind… What if Balthazar was right? What if they could help these versions of the people they loved? She already loved them, she couldn’t deny that. Maybe they couldn’t save everyone, but she could try leading her family into the right direction…

Balthazar couldn’t know, obviously. That would only reinforce his crazy beliefs that it was their responsibility to save everyone and everything.

“You know, for an angel, you don’t believe in anything,” Balthazar said with a roll of his eyes and walked out of the room, almost running really, anxious to take another look at Dean’s soul.

Mary suggested to go back to the same diner when she left with Sam for their study session. He’d planned to go there anyway, but he didn’t say so. They got the same table as last time and unpacked their stuff on the table. In no time, the same waitress they’d met yesterday approached their table. Sam couldn't deny he'd seen her coming, half-dancing her way towards them, swaying on the tip of her toes happily.

"Hey, guys. Nice to see you again. You've another study session?"

Sam looked at her, smiling a little nervously, and nodded.

"Yeap," Mary answered for Sam. "Will probably be coming everyday. I lost the school year but don't want to fall behind."

"I see. I'll make sure to reserve the table for you then," she winked at the girl, half-joking, half-serious. Her eyes flickered to the man for a moment. "Can I get you anything?"

“Just coffee, please,” Sam said. He was sitting in the edge of his seat, and his hand twitched nervously. His eyes scanned her face quickly, looking for details he hadn’t seen before. Up and close, she was prettier that he’d realised. She had freckles and an easy, very lovely smile. She looked perpetually embarrassed and it was definitely part of her charm. God, he felt like a goddamn teenager crushing on the pretty, popular girl. Except this probably wasn't the type of girl that was popular, but the one that was weird and grew up to be gorgeous and definitely a keeper.

“Alright, then,” she offered him a smile, but quickly look away from him. He was handsome, _too goddamn_ handsome, and when she tried not to stare to avoid being impolite, she ended up almost avoiding eye contact with him at all by accident. “And you, darling? Can I get you anything?”

Mary looked at Sam as if asking for permission.

“Go ahead, Mary, order whatever you want. You practically didn’t have any breakfast,” he snorted, remembering her sudden disappearance from the kitchen earlier.

“Can I have some pie, please?” she asked the waitress, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. Sam rolled his eyes; _definitely_ Dean’s kid…

“Sure, excellent choice,” the waitress nodded in agreement. “I’ll be right back.”

She stole a glance in Sam’s direction and blushed furiously when she realised he was smiling at her. _Devastatingly handsome_ , she thought with a sigh. Mary just shook her head at the both of them.

Sam was beginning to explain some new biology concepts when the young woman came back with the pie and the coffee.

“Alright. One slice of awesome pie, and one cup of coffee,” she said, nearly singing the words. She stood on the tip of her toes and she leaned over the table and passed their stuff around. “I made it myself,” she announced before she could help herself, blushing slightly.

“Really?” Mary said, looking down at the pie. It smelled wonderful and it looked just as great.

“Yes,” the woman shrugged like it was unimportant, when it obviously meant something to her.

“You bake?” Sam asked. A part of him wanted to stall her, keep her talking, see if she was as interesting as she looked. There was some… _different_ about her. She was naturally sweet and his soul wanted to lean against hers and try out some of that much needed kindness.

The woman looked at him, a bit nervous under his gaze, and pulled a string of hair behind her ear.

“Yes. I make the desserts for the store actually. I’d like to have my own bakery some day,” she rambled on, suddenly stopping as she realised she was sharing too much, they most likely didn’t care.

Except Sam cared, for some reason.

“Oh. Oh, cool,” he said and automatically felt lame. _Jesus, Sam, say more than three words, would you?_

Mary took a bite of the pie and sighed.

“It’s amazing,” she spoke with her mouth full of pie. “Dad would _love_ this pie.”

“Oh, you’re not-?” the woman pointed at Sam and automatically regretted it; who was shy to pry, after all? She’d assumed they were father and daughter; their facial features were somewhat similar, they seemed familiar and affectionate with each other… It only made sense that a guy that good looking was taken and had a family.

Mary shook her head. “He’s my uncle… And not married.”

Both adults looked at her for a moment, then at each other, then away, as they blushed furiously.

“What? Just saying…” she mumbled as took another bite of pie and suppressed laughter. She was in a very Balthazar kind of mood for a little angelic meddling.

“I- I’ve gotta- other tables- you know, _work_ ,” she nodded, avoiding Sam’s eyes, and walked away, not without stumbling into her own feet for a second there as she turned around. She ran a hand through her hair nervously as she walked away, cringing with embarrassment. Sam simply stared after her, smiling to himself. Everything that made her weird and awkward was adorable.

“You should see your soul right now,” Mary commented under her breath with a smirk. Sam blushed but couldn’t help smiling despite his embarrassment. “And you dared laugh at dad this morning...”

“Do you know what’s up with those two, by the way? Something’s changed.” Sam asked, absolutely avoided the subject of his own soul.

“No, I don’t know… But it’s the start of something good.”

Back in the bunker, Zep made a mess of his onesie.  _Again._ Dean realised they do not have at all enough clothes to replace the ones the baby gets dirty. They must either buy new clothes or do laundry way more often. He left the baby with Rowena and Balthazar for a moment as the witch read to them on the sofa, and barged into Castiel's room looking for a new onesie. When he turned around and saw the angel coming in, naked except for the towel around his waist, he jumped back and nearly ran out of the room, except Cas forced the door closed with a wave of his hand before Dean could get out.

"Relax, Dean," he ordered the man with an amused grin and a roll of his eyes. "You're allowed to look now, remember? If anything, it might help you realise what you're missing out on."

Dean's mouth became automatically dry and he blinked quickly with a dumb, embarrassed expression in his face. He stood against the door with a hand on the handle, looking up at Cas through his eyelashes as if he didn't fully believe what Cas was saying. He still felt that instinct that told him to look away whenever he wanted to look at the angel with more than brotherly love, like he was doing something wrong and could get caught in any moment. When did Cas become so _cheeky_? And so goddamn _hot_ too. Cas was beautiful, he couldn't deny it. It certainly wasn't the type of body he usually went for, but it didn't disgust him, it didn't feel wrong to look at Castiel like that. He allowed his eyes to dart up and trace over the muscles in Cas' stomach. This time, Dean didn't look away. He allowed himself to stare, to investigate every inch of skin with his eyes. 

The man cleared his throat after a moment, wondering if maybe he was being a creep. "Why- Since when do you shower?"

"Sometimes I do it at night, while everyone's sleeping. It's a habit I picked up while I was human," he explained with a shrug. "It feels... Nice. Soothing. It helps clear my mind. But since I watch over Zep at night, I haven't had a lot of time."

"You know you don't have to watch him the  _entire_ night, right, Cas? Don't be an overprotective dad."

Cas snorted. "Look who's talking."

"Yeah, well, you know what I mean. Give the baby some space. He'll be fine. You could- you could stay with me... In my room, I mean. If you'd like."

Dean shifted with expectation. He hadn't meant to offer that, hadn't even thought about it, it had just slipped out of his mouth.

"You want to share a room with me?" Cas squinted, not believing his ears.

"Yeah, well- for the baby's sake," he said lamely, scratching the back of his neck.

Castiel shook his head and grinned. Dean was just impossible. "For the baby's sake," he repeated. "Alright, Dean, let's share a room. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get dressed. Unless you want to stay, of course."

Dean looked around the room, staring at anything  _but_ Cas now, his heart racing. "No- I- Rowena probably needs my help with Zep. Yeah- you- err-" the man stole a last quick glance in the angel's direction, a part of him unwilling to look away from Castiel's bare skin, before he was opening the door and nearly running out of the room, mumbling after himself, "yeah, get dressed, for the love of God..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users): deanhasherpes ; trashmel ; touchmishaswormstache ; godshipsit ; magneticcas ; timetraveldean ; immortalxhusbands ; thewinchesterdaily


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> It's pretty late and I don't have it in me to look for the gifs right now. May or may not do it some other time. But the chapter is complete and I'd rather post it as soon as possible to make up for this week's slow flow!  
> Thanks for reading!

"Have any of you, _idiots_ , been paying any attention to the news lately?" Rowena asked as she laid Dean's computer on the table just as Dean was about to set the plates down for lunch.

"Mind your language, Rowena," Cas scolded her with a reproving frown, his head tilting in the direction of the dark-haired boy who was sitting at the table. Balthazar simply giggled.

Dean set the plates down the wooden furniture and sighed with exasperation. "What were you doing with my computer anyway?"

"It made a noise, so I went to check on it," she explained, pushing the computer towards him. "It says it's some kind of S.P.N. alert?"

Dean's face dropped and he quickly lowered his head to look at the screen. Indeed, a window had popped itself opened in front of everything else and he recognised the software right away; it was a map with red words on top that read ‘S.P.N. ALERT’. Charlie had programmed a software a long time ago to warn them when there were suspicious, potentially supernatural events going on around them, a software that worked by linking certain words in news articles to locations that hit a little too close to home. Right now, they were looking at a map of Kansas with several red dots on either side of the town.

 "S.P.N. as in supernatural, I assume?" Rowena said, looking over Dean's shoulder to the map of Kansas that featured several red dots not too far from Lebanon.

Dean nodded, turning to Sam with a grim expression on his face. Sam put town the pan and wooden spoon, quickly forgetting about lunch, cleaned his hands with a dish towel and hurried to his brother’s side.

"I haven't been- I should have-"

"We all got a little too comfortable," Dean gave him a sympathetic smile, but his worried frown remained put. They should have made sure the area remained safe, should have kept tabs on strange news, but they’d been too preoccupied with small day to day troubles.

"These are close. Too close for my comfort,” Dean swallowed hard. “And look at the dates..."

He moved a finger over the touchpad, resting the mouse momentarily on each red dot; some where to the right of Lebanon, others to the left, but in each side a clear patterned formed, an almost straight line towards them- Whatever was happening, was heading their way and they weren’t too far away.

Rowena spoke what everyone was thinking and what she’d figured out as soon as she’d seen this in Dean’s room, “whoever or whatever this is, they're coming this way.”

The brothers were busy exchanging looks of concern when Cas cleared his throat and both men looked up at him. The angel was standing behind the kids’ chairs, holding Zep with one arm and with his free hand perched on Baltz’s shoulder. The boy and his sister looked worried and confused, looking up at their dad for reassurance.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere,” the angel suggested.

“No!” Mary protested, turning around on her chair to look up at Dan. “I wanna know! Is something coming our way?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Dean quickly moved towards her to grab her hand.

“Tell that to your face, dad. I can protect us, let me-”

“It usually goes the other way around, kid; the adults protect their children.”

“But I’m not a child!”

Dean sighed and looked at Cas for support, but the angel simply gestured towards the door with his head, urging him to continue the conversation in the other room where the kids couldn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” Dean said calmly but with determination, “it’s not up for discussion.”

He felt weird and uncomfortable putting his foot down, he wasn’t used to saying ‘no’ to them and he really rarely ever had to, but he wasn’t going to change his mind about this, he could never drag the kids into dangerous situations or towns crawling with monsters. He’d keep them as blissfully happy as possible for as long as he could, even though the children were relentless and a magnet for trouble.

The eldest Winchester took the computer in his hands and walked out of the room, closely followed by his brother and Rowena, who winked at the small boy and smile at him in her way out. Cas took their plates and filled them with food, then set them in the table in front of them.

“Mary, please make sure Balthazar eats his vegetables,” he instructed in a soft voice while he put Zeppelin down in his high chair. Mary nodded but didn’t bother responding before Cas walked out of the room too. Once in the war room, he asked, “so, what are we dealing with?”

The angel stood a little too close to Dean, but the other didn’t move away from him, didn’t ask Cas to respect his personal space like he used to do. Instead, he turned around with a look of utter concern.

“Bad news,” he breathed out, “ _really_ bad news. It’s vampires to the left, werewolves to the right, apparently. And in packs, most likely, by the numbers of attacks… They’re coming this way, it can’t be a coincidence. I don’t know what the hell vampires and werewolves want with these kids, but I’m not about to wait and find out. What’s really bothering me is how do they know where we are? This has always been a safe place for us.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, feeling guilty.

“Dean, I think I know… Remember I told you Mary had a meltdown at the library? She caused an earthquake that day. The demons made the connection before, so did we, they’re probably following that lead.”

“The how and why don’t really matter right now,” Rowena shifted impatiently and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are we going to do about this?”

Dean did a double take on her; she looked worried, genuinely worried. He didn’t stop to comment on how the witch included herself with that ‘we’; if she wanted to join in and help protect the kids, all the better.

“We’re going hunting, that’s what we’re doing,” Dean said like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna sit and wait to get surrounded by monsters in my own home.”

“Besides, everyone in town will be in danger,” Sam added, his thoughts momentarily wandering to the waitress that lived back in town.

“I say Cas and I take the werewolves, Sam and Rowena the vampires. Can you handle a hunt?” Dean asked, turning to face the witch.

Rowena scoffed. “ _Please_ , Dean. I’ve the perfect spell to burn the bloodsuckers.”

“Awesome,” Dean and the witched exchanged a smile.

“Dean,” Cas started, “I think you’re forgetting about something.”

“What?”

“ _The kids_ ,” the angel raised an eyebrow.

“Oh… Right.”

He felt utterly stupid, but a strong sense of independence was an instinct in him by now. He was too used to going anywhere and everywhere, whenever he wanted, not having any real attachments to anyone or any place. Sam tagged along most of the time, but his presence was like a part of Dean’s, something he took for granted most of the time. He’d completely forgotten about the children for a moment, someone actually needed to stay behind at home this time and take care of them.

“Someone has to stay with the kids,” Cas said, and after a second, all three men turned towards Rowena.

The witch scoffed again, rolling her eyes back into her skull. “What, because I’m a _woman_? How sexist of you.”

“Because you’re not a _hunter_ ,” Dean argued impatiently.

“So? I can handle myself just as fine, if not better. Besides, you’re going to send Samuel here off to face a bunch of vampires all on his own? With the terrible luck you two have?”

“Hey!” the man threw with arms out in protest, but his older brother remained silent, taking in the words of the witch. Sam narrowed his eyes at him, a little offended.

“She’s right, you shouldn’t go alone, Sam,” Cas states solemnly.

He’s about to protest, but Dean beats him to it. “So, what? We hire a nanny for the three little angels?” Dean snorted, raising an eyebrow at the angel.

A silence settles between them.

“It was a joke. I was _joking_ ,” Dean nearly yelled, stopping to stare at Cas the longest above the others. “We’re not getting a nanny! Even if a person agreed to come to an underground bunker in the middle of the woods to babysit three half-angels, I’m not leaving my kids with some random stranger!”

“I don’t like it more than you do, Dean,” Cas spoke softly, a hand coming up to rest in Dean’s shoulder, “but we may not have another choice. We can’t leave them here by themselves, we’re definitely not taking them with us into a dangerous hunt, and it’d be unwise to send one of us all by themselves, but we have no one else to turn to for help in such short notice.”

“I know someone we could ask,” Sam spoke hesitatingly. “Mary knows her. She’s a good person, Dean, Mary likes her soul.”

The father of the kids looked around, hands on his waist, waiting for someone to go against the plan, but no one did and his hands were tied, he couldn’t really say no either. They needed to get out there and hunt, right about _now_.

“Dean, we get in and out, we’ll be back in no time,” Sam patted his back in some sort of consolation.

The matter seemed to be settled, so the eldest Winchester nodded bitterly, biting his lower lip as he marched back into the kitchen. His children were eating in silence, their worried expressions hadn’t changed one bit. Dean offered Mary a smile as a sign of peace, and the girl couldn’t stay mad at her father when he looked so preoccupied. It made him look older. He grabbed a plate, filled in with food and sat down on the table next to eat. He took his daughter’s hand and ate in silence. He could barely swallow his food, he had completely lost his appetite as he was lost in thought; the prospect of telling his kids after lunch he was leaving them alone, was killing him.

Sam made his way back to the diner right after lunch. He got out of the car and waited in the parking lot for a moment. His hands were sweating, his heart beat furiously against his chest, as he went over in his head the pathetic speech he’d planned. This woman was probably going to think he was crazy, she’d most likely tell him to get lost, fuck off, but he had _try_ , for the kids. He tried not to pity himself and pout at the prospect of ruining any chance of ever dating this person, because he was about to make a fool of himself in front of her, and after it, she’d never agree to going out with a crazy person like him.

But if there was the smallest chance she’d say yes, he had to do it, he had to do his share to help protect his family.

The woman was still inside, leaning over the counter as she read a book. She looked up as the little bell over the door announced a new customer had just come in. She looked surprised for a moment when her eyes laid on Sam, then a flash of excitement betrayed her facial features. A moment after she was blushing. She did that a lot, Sam realised, and her look of embarrassment did all sorts of things to him…

“Hey,” Sam mumbled nervously, hands buried in his pockets. He dragged his feet towards the counter and smiled at her.

“Hi,” she answered. She closed her book and waited, holding his gaze. They looked at each other in an awkward silence for a moment, before she cleared her throat and asked, “can I get you anything?”

Sam took a deep breath, mentally preparing to get yelled at in public, most likely. “Actually, I- I’m sorry to bother you, but-”

The man was panicking as the gorgeous woman before him observed him, patiently waiting for him to go on. How did he _ever_ think this was a good idea? _Of course_ she was going to say no, this is crazy, he’s a stranger asking for a huge favor.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her hand reaching for his, but not quite daring to touch him. It was the sweetness in her tone of genuine concern that melted his worried away and gave him the courage he needed to speak.

“You’re probably gonna say no,” he spoke so fast she could barely keep up with what he was saying, “and I get that, I know I’m just a stranger to you, but you’re the only person I know in town, and you seem kind and lovely-” Sam paused to breath and saw the woman blushing a brand-new shade of red, a hand quickly going up to fidget with a lock her hair. “My family’s in trouble and I really need to ask you a favor… Please?”

The waitress regarded him for a moment. She couldn’t deny that for a second there she felt disappointed; she’s very stupidly thought- she’d _hoped_ , for just the briefest moment, that he was going to ask her out. But, of course, he didn’t; he was _way_ out her league, probably.

She barely spent time pitying herself, though, and dwelling in her own preoccupations, because this was obviously someone in desperate need of help and her soul was selfless and pure, so the woman couldn’t bring herself to turn her back on him.

“Of course,” she said without hesitation and the look of relief in the young Winchester’s face was priceless. “If I can, I’ll help you.”

“I just need someone to look after my brother’s kids for 2 days. Just 2 days, I swear. And they’re good kids, super obedient and- and fun, nice- they won’t cause any trouble, I promise. Of course, we’ll pay you for the trouble, and give you money for the food and-”

She huffed a laugh and lifted her hands to stop him. “It’s okay, you don’t need to pay me, just- you’ll owe me one, okay?” she shrugged casually and winked at him, but inside her heart was raising. She hadn’t meant to say that last bit or to freaking _wink_ at him and make things weird, but the words had just gone blurting out of her mouth. Now she was wondering if she could actually have the guts to ask him out if he wasn’t going to do it first. Sure, he was gorgeous beyond measure and could probably get another woman twice as hot as she was to go out with him, but who knew, maybe he’d like her quirky personality. Or at least that’s what she wanted to believe. And she _did_ have a great ass, if she may say so herself.

“Really?” Sam huffed a laugh, the lines of concern in his forehead relaxing. He couldn’t quite believe it, things rarely ever went that easy and smoothly for him. “Just like that? Why?”

She shrugged again. “Why not? You need help, I can do it.”

The man simply looked down at her with a wide smile and a pleasantly surprised look in his eyes. Standing in front of him, up and close, she realized how _really_ freaking tall he was. She felt tiny under his stare, and shifted with embarrassment, but smiled back.

“Okay, okay,” he said dumbly, a little lost in the staring contest. He thought of the way Cas and Dean used to look at each other like that and he’d make fun of them. He kind of got it now. “So, I- I’ll drop them off in your place after work? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” the woman produced a little notebook and pen from her pocket, which she usually used to write down big orders, and quickly wrote down her phone number and address. “I’ll be at home at 5.”

“Alright. Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.”

But Sam lingered by her side for such a moment.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” he said, extending her hand towards her.

She shook it. His was twice as bigger as hers, fingers long and calloused. She blushed just thinking about them.

“Josie.”

“Josie,” Sam repeated, and _God_ , he needed to stop talking because he couldn’t think clearly around her and he sounded like an idiot. “I’ll see you in a bit. I owe you, big time.”

The kids liked the idea of being left behind just as little as Dean or Cas liked it. Balthazar threatened to burst into tears, but Dean kept the meltdown at bay by promising to take him shopping for some toys and colouring books. He could pamper his freaking son all he wanted, he thought, if he was leaving him behind to go on a hunt. Mary was quieter; she didn’t agree with the plan but she knew there was nothing she could do to change their minds.

Cas packed a bag full of baby stuff while Dean packed the kids’ tooth brushes, some clothes and a couple of Balthazar’s toys. Dean returned to Cas’ room to find him changing Zep into a new diaper and onesie, to spare Josie from having to change the baby for a little while. The man closed the door behind him, crossed the space between them and kissed Cas hard on the mount for a moment. The angel stood with his eyes opened, surprised, before he closed his eyes and gave into the kiss. But just as quickly, it was over, and Dean was pulling away. He looked worried- _super_ worried.

“I was just getting used to hanging out in your room,” Dean joked, but his tone was sad.

“We’ll be back in no time, Dean,” Cas smiled him reassuringly, kissing him quickly once more before he picked the baby up from the bed. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Rowena and Sam drove in a car behind the Impala to see the kids off, but then they were going to take separate ways. The witch remained in the car while the Winchester and the angels walked up to Josie’s doorstep. Sam knocked twice and the woman appeared in no time.

“Hi,” she said shyly, a little taken aback by the large group before her.

“Hi, Josie,” Sam smiled.

“Is that pie?” Dean couldn’t help himself as he looked down at the dessert in the woman’s hands.

“Oh, yeah. Mary mentioned you liked them. I figured- whatever’s going on with you- hmm, my mum used to say, ‘full stomach, happy heart’,” she explained, offering the pie to Dean. He tried not to take it too eagerly.

“Amen to that. I already like you.” Dean mumbled, licking his lips as he looked down at the pie in his hands. “I’m Dean, by the way,” he offered his hand out to her. He felt a little better meeting the woman; Sam was right, there was something about her that screamed kindness. “This is Cas, Balthazar, Zep,” he said, pointing at the members of his family. “You already know Mary and Sam.”

“Yeap,” Josie smiled down at Mary. “Nice to see you again, kid. Guess you’re gonna do your study session with me, huh?”

“Can we?” Mary looked up with hopeful eyes.

“If you want to,” Josie shrugged, a hand coming to rest in the girl’s shoulder.

Dean dropped to one knee and pulled his kids into a hug. He looked more aggravated than Josie thought was reasonable since they were just leaving for two days, but she figured there was more to the story she didn’t know since everyone looked uneasy, and they were leaving their children with a complete stranger- She figured whatever was going on, really had them desperate, normally people didn’t leave their kids with people they barely knew.

"Okay, kids. We'll be back in 2 days. The day after tomorrow, we'll be back to have breakfast with you."

"You promise?" Baltz asked, his small hands on either side of Dean's face.

"I promise," Dean kissed his forehead, then turned to Mary. "Never leave Zep alone, okay?"

They exchanged a knowing look; it wasn't that they didn't trust Josie, rather than Zeppelin could be a danger to her if he got too upset. The girl nodded. She wanted to ask them again to let her go with them but she knew it was futile to even try.

"Take care of each other and obey Josie," Cas told them as he passed the baby onto Josie’s arms, then placing a hand on Dean's shoulder, silently urging him to get up. It was time to go, they could get everything over with by tomorrow night with some luck.

The kids nodded silently, a general and unusual sadness about them. Both siblings felt terribly uneasy separating from their parents once again. For what the looks in their parents' faces were worth, so did they.

“Thank you for doing this,” Dean told Josie, shifting uncomfortably in place.

“No problem. Sam will repay me later.”

 _Oh, God, shut up_ , she urged herself as Sam gulped and flushed.

"Bye," Dean mumbled to his kids as he got up. A part of him felt he was exaggerating, but his gut was telling him not to leave his kids alone. It made him feel sick in his stomach.

"Bye," Balthazar said back at him while Mary only lazily waved as angel and man retreated back to the car.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Sam called over his shoulder, waving at Josie. She returned the wave and her eyes lingered in Rowena for a moment. She wondered who the woman was, though she quickly moved away from that train of thought; again, it wasn’t her place to pry. Though she knew Sam wasn’t married.

Josie allowed the kids to watch the cars drive away until they both took a turn and disappeared around the corner of a street. She patted the baby's butt and looked down at the two siblings. The were really cute kids, she thought.

"Well... Shall we go inside? I rented a couple of movies for you, guys."

She turned around and kicked the door fully opened, inviting them in with a warm smile. Both kids took a look at her soul; it was reassuring to be in the presence of someone so kind.

"What movies?" Baltz asked, momentarily distracted though still pouting over the absence of their parents. His sister took his hand and the backpack Dean had given her, and pulled him inside the house.

"Well, I have Monsters Inc., Brother Bear, Finding Nemo- I love finding nemo so much. I feel like Dori sometimes, don't you? I have Nightmare Before Christmas-"

Mary gasped "Yes! That one!" Mary couldn't help but look up and smile.

"You like that one?"

"It's my favorite."

"Really? Mine too!"

They smiled at each other and in no time the three on them where in her living room watching the movie. Mary was a little shy to sing along at first, but when Josie started singing without any cares in the world, the girl joined in. Both of them knew every word and Baltz tried to catch up, but he usually messed up. He didn’t care, he went on anyway.

The evening went more smoothly than any of them would have figured. They got along really well, Josie was a good host, playful and goody enough to get along just fine with the kids but sure enough of herself to keep them in line and calmed. They ordered pizza for dinner and in no time, she managed to put the kids to bed. The three siblings laid in a queen-sized bed in Josie’s guest room, baby Zep laying almost already asleep between his older sister and brother. The closest thing to a children’s story Josie had to read to them was Harry Potter, and though Balthazar felt asleep pretty fast, Mary seemed to be too into the story to sleep.

“I could lend it to you, if you want. I’ve got all 7 books.”

“Yes, please. Thanks.”

“Alright. But now, sweetheart, you’d better go to sleep. Gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

Josie offered her one last smile before she turned the lights off and closed the door behind her. Mary closed her eyes and rolled to her side, placing his hand over Zep’s tummy. The presence of the human made her feel better. She guessed that is uncle Sam couldn’t be with Clara anymore, Josie would be a great aunt too.

The following morning, Josie woke up a little earlier to change Zep into a new diaper, and together the four of them went to the diner. Inside the small business, Josie led them to a table on the corner and got their colouring books from inside Baltz’s backpack. Mary held Zep for a couple of minutes before Josie came back with a high chair that they offered to clients with babies.

“Okay, kids. I’ll get you some pie and juice for breakfast, then lunch around 12, okay? We’ll stay until 4 and then we can do whatever you want. Sounds good?”

“What kind of pie?” Balthazar asked, ignoring everything else and suddenly looking alive.

Mary rolled her eyes at him, then turned to Josie. “I’ll keep them busy,” she promised.

The day went on smoothly too and Josie was really enjoying the kids’ presence. She didn’t have any siblings; her family was small, her parents hadn’t had other children and she’d barely had a couple of cousins she really wasn’t very close with. She knew not all kids were as good as these ones, but damn, it made her want her own family. She was kind of sad they were leaving the next morning and a part of her very secretly hoped she’d see them again one day. At least she’d see Mary if she continued her study sessions with Sam in the diner. And, well, she also kind of wanted to see Sam.

She’d put the kids down not long ago, when a noise of glass breaking made her jump on the bed. Something dropped in her stomach as an uncomfortable, dark feeling crawled up her spine. Something was wrong. She opened her drawer nightstand’s drawer and drew out her gun. Why, _why_ did she have to have her house broken into while baby sitting, of all days?

The noise woke up Mary too, and she sat up in the bed immediately. She could almost feel them as she tried to concentrate, the dark energies of the demons getting inside the house. She woke up her younger brother with a rough movement of her grace against his, trying hard to keep her panic at bay.

“What?” the boy grunted, not caring to open his eyes.

“We have to go!” she ordered him under her breath as she took Zep in her arms. The baby started into consciousness and begun to whimper.

“Why?”

“Demons.”

Mary got out of the bed and went to stand next to the window. Her wing was fine by now, she could fly away from the house, a couple of kilometers at the time, bank to the bunker eventually.

“ _What?_ ” Balthazar held into the sheets as if they would protect them. Mary sighed, exasperated, and grabbed his wrist to drag him out of bed.

“We need to go, Baltz! Now!”

“But- Josie! We can’t leave without her!”

The door opened and the two kids jumped back, holding tightly onto each other. It was Josie. She closed the door behind her very slowly and put a finger to her lips, telling them to be quiet.

“Get under the bed,” she ordered them.

Mary was about to argue when the door blasted opened. Josie jumped back, raised her gun and shot at the man that came barging in. The shot didn’t stop him at all. He raised a hand, and in a second the woman dropped the gun and was chocking in the ground.

Two other demons came into the room and for a moment time seemed to stop as the tension in their graces peaked. Mary could feel it, their siblings’ graces, circling them. Her joined in out of instinct. They moved in unison, along with their souls, until they were one. She gasped and urged them forward, the immense power moving in unison as one, running through the demons’ chest, obliterating them. The light in the room was almost blinding, and Josie closed her eyes before it could hurt them. One moment she was choking, the next the three men felt dead on the floor and she was gasping for air.

When their graces and souls were back in place, Baltz felt on his knees to the floor. Mary gasped as if she’d been holding her breath.

“How-”

“I don’t know, Baltz, but we need to go!”

Mary pulled him to his feet and ran to Josie.

“Are you alright?”

“What the hell was that!” Josie asked, hysterical. She tried to pull himself together, she was the adult after all. She stumbled to her feet and took the baby from Mary’s arms. “We- we need to c-call the police.”

“No, we need to go!” Mary yelled in panic.

“Mary!”

Balthazar pointed behind Josie, where another demon was coming into the bedroom. The boy reached for Josie’s arm, and once they were all touching, he flew them to the living room just as the demon was about to attack. Josie jumped and looked around. She was in the verge of puking, out of nerves and because whatever had just happened to her body had felt _awful_.

“What the-” she looked around the living room.

“Baltz!”

Mary searched for his grace, trying to mix hers with his again as they’d just done upstairs to fight the two demons that were running down the stairs towards them. Another one barged through the front door. But she couldn’t, for some reason she couldn’t repeat whatever they’d just done to fight off the demons, and she froze as the creatures advanced on them.

Josie pushed the kids behind her and was about to take a blow from a demon when a blade stabbed the monster in the back. It cried out in pain and a strange red light lit up its veins. The woman watched, mouth hanging opened, as the demon dropped to the floor, dead.

Mary looked up to see the same angel she’d once fought off in the construction building, an angel blade in his hand. How was he still alive? It wasn’t possible, she’s nearly killed him, she remembered the rips in in his grace she’d caused.

Her heart sunk even deeper into her gut; an angel would be harder to fight off, she’d rather fight the demons.

But as she looked around, she saw six others angels take care of the remaining demons.

“I- I don’t know what you want, take anything you want, just please don’t harm the kids,” Josie pleaded, holding Zep close to her chest. She was in automatic mode, a part of him couldn’t even process what was happening.

Mary stepped forwards, grace reading to burst and kill, when the angel dropped his blade and raised his hands in surrender.

“Nephilim, we’re not here to hurt you,” he said quickly, stepping back. The other angels waited behind him, throwing curious glances in their direction. The man’s eyes flickered towards Balthazar. “Do you remember me, child?”

Balthazar was shacking, clinging to the back of Josie’s pyjamas for dear life. He peaked from behind her, observing the angel for a moment. Yes, he recognised him now.

“It’s you!” the boy said with a triumph smile. “You lived!”

“Yes, I did,” he smiled, dropping to his knees with a fond smile. “You cured me.”

“It’s true, then?” an angel in a woman’s vessel asked, stepping forwards. “You can cure graces?”

“What do you want?” Mary asked aggressively.

“Wait, you know these people?” Josie asked. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to think over Zep’s cries. “Who the _hell_ are you? What the _fuck_ is going on!”

The woman moved back to sit in the couch now that immediate danger seemed to have passed and she had time to let herself go and have a full-on panic attack. She rested the boy against her chest and hold him like her life depended on it. A part of her had the stupid idea that if she managed to calm the baby down, she might too.

One of the angels moved towards her, probably to make her sleep, but Mary jumped in front of her, a defiant look on her face.

“Why are you here?” she demanded to know as she silently prayed for Castiel, urging him to return for them.

“We’re watching over you,” the angel Baltz saved explained. “We saw the demons moving into town, and we followed them. We feared they were up to something and we- we wanted to protect you, after what your brother did. We were wrong to attack you, we can see that now. Some of us came down to Earth to help Castiel protect you. I’m sorry I tried to hurt you.”

“You mean you tried to _killed_ me,” Mary spat.

“ _Demons_?” Josie repeated in a high-pitched voice. “Oh my _God_! What the hell _are_ you?”

Mary turned around and observed her soul; she was in the edge of a complete meltdown. It pained her to see the pure hearted human in such a state. She took a deep breath and turned around to face the angel again. “You really wanna help us?”

The angel nodded.

“Just- My parents will be back soon. Keep guard outside... Please? I think Josie needs to relax, and my brothers need to sleep,” Mary turned again to glance at the human.

The woman huffed a laugh at the word ‘relax’. She was hyperventilating as Balthazar went to sit next to her.

The angel nodded and gestured for the rest of them to leave.

“We’ll be outside, if you need us.”

Mary nodded and waited until they were gone to go and sit next to Josie. It was the fist time she ever gave angels an order. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but it was better than having them attack her.

“Josie… Are you alright?”

The woman’s eyes were wide opened. She took a deep breath, then looked down at them, her eyes flickering between green and blue eyes.

“What are you?” she asked, her tone softer this time.

“We’re nephilim. Half-angels, half-human. My dad, Cas… He’s an angel.”

Josie looked at her in silence for a moment, then nodded an unnecessary amount of times, staring into the empty space before her. Zep was calming down. She lowered her head to kiss the top of his head out of instinct, not really knowing she was doing that.

“Did you- we just _appeared_ in the living room,” she said, and Mary felt there was a question there, but Josie didn’t even know how to put it into words.

“That was me,” Balthazar said, a tiny pride smile venturing into his lips. “I flew us into the living room.”

“You- you _flew_ us- you have wings. You have _wings_?” she did a double take on him, half-expecting wings to materialize behind him.

“You can’t see them,” Mary said.

Josie laughed once. Then started to laugh and shake out of nerves. Balthazar and Mary exchanged looks of concern. They could simply make her sleep, but they didn’t know what good that’d do. She’d better deal with this now. They could always make her forget, but they needed to wait for their parents anyway, and a part of them didn’t _want_ her to forget them.

It took the woman a little while to settle and by then Balthazar had fallen asleep in the couch, and so had Zep.

“I need pie,” Josie suddenly declared, and looked up at Mary. “Do you want pie?”

Mary looked at her curiously once, but when she decided her soul looked kind of in place, she decided to tag alone. They ate in silence for a while, and after a while, just before the sun rose, Josie decided to put the kids back to bed. She allowed Mary to carry Zep back up so the woman could carry a very sleep Zep back to the bed. Thankfully, the angels had removed the dead bodies of the demons. She had a lot of cleaning up do to the following day, the fight had broken several things here and there. She laid in her bed and thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but she was so emotionally exhausted and out of it, that sleep found her rather fast.

When Josie woke up the next morning, she half-though it’d all been a dream, except that when she went downstairs, she found Sam’s entire family in her kitchen. Sam rose from the chair and hurried to her.

“Josie! Are you alright?” he asked. “I’m _so_ sorry! We didn’t realise we were being set up on a trap. We should have never let the children with you. I can’t even begin to- you must hate us.”

To be fair, they had _really_ not seen it coming. Vampires, werewolves _and_ demons working together to trick them? _That_ was new.

Josie hesitated. She wasn’t sure what to say, and her body kind of reacted on its own, breaking the space between them, pulling her arms around Sam’s waist. She didn’t care if it was inappropriate, or if his family were watching, she couldn’t really think straight. She just thought she’d like to feel safe in the tall man’s arms.

“Sam,” she breathed, feeling like she’d been holding her breath for hours, “demons are real.”

Sam stood with his arms awkwardly still on his sides for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said softly.

“You do?” she looked up, frowning.

“Yeah. I kind of- I kind of kill them. That’s my job. I’m a hunter. As in, a hunter of monsters.”

Her mouth dropped.

“Monsters are real?”

“Yes, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, _God_.”

“Actually, he left,” Cas said from the table.

“Not helping, Cas,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head.

“You know _God_?” she laughed too, stepping back, out of Sam’s arms.

“Yeah, we met him a while ago.”

“ _What_?” Mary looked up, jaw dropping.

Josie snorted and leaned forward, grabbing her ribs. Once she’d started, she couldn’t stop.

“You know _God_ ,” she repeated like it was the funniest thing in the world. She really needed a drink, but it wasn’t even time for lunch. Oh, God, she hadn’t called in sick to work. Her life at the diner seemed to dull and unimportant at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Sam scratched the back of his neck, turning around to ask Dean for some sort of help. His brother merely shrugged, shoving more pie into his mouth.

“I’m never gonna be able to see Nightmare Before Christmas the same way again,” she declared, and it was Sam’s turn to snort.

“You know, if you want, I could make you forget all of this,” Cas said, rising from his chair.

Josie jumped back as if he’d threatened her.

“No!” she said quickly, not even thinking about. “No, I- I don’t want to forget.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked. “I ain’t gonna lie, it’s not easy living knowing about these things.”

“I know but-” Josie’s eyes flickered back and forth between Sam and Mary. “I- I don’t want to forget you. And I- I rather know. And be ready.”

“Well, in that case, you might wanna get one of these,” Sam said, pulled down from the neck of his shirt to reveal his tattoo. “Makes demons unable to posses you.”

Josie nodded a couple of times, her fingers reaching to touch the tattoo. She suddenly realised how inappropriate it was, and quickly pulled her hand back.

“Well-” she stammered, “since you owe me _big_ time, I think you should come with me to get that tattooed. As in, _today_.”

She shifted nervously, thinking a demon could possess her any moment now. She wondered if the angels were still outside, guarding the house, and how ridiculous it was to think a tiny army of angels were watching over them. Would Sam know what to do if a demon possessed her?

“Okay, I’ll go with you later,” Sam smiled shyly. He still couldn’t believe she wasn’t screaming at them to get the hell out. They had considered leaving before she arrived, Rowena even had gone back to the bunker, but they’d decided to stay back to check on her, make sure she didn’t lose her sanity after that night’s events. “Well, if you want to sit, I could make lunch for everyone.”

“Lunch, sure…” Josie repeated, moving to take a place around the table.

Dean, Cas and his children had made themselves at home and ate her pies like there was no tomorrow. Everything seemed fine to them, like being together quickly fixed whatever bad thing had happened. Was this normal, for them? What that part of being a member of their family, fighting demons and crazy, dramatic entranced performed by angels?

She stared at Cas for a moment. An angel as eating her pie and smiling up at her, in her kitchen.

“You make the best pies in the universe,” Dean said, sighing as he chewed, eyeing her curiously. She seemed pretty cool, and was taking the shock of that night’s events pretty well. He decided he liked her; she was kind, strong and made the best pies.

“I’m- I’m glad you like them.”

“It’s a keeper, this one, Sam,” Dean huffed a laugh.

Sam and Josie looked at each other, then quickly away, blushing. Sam turned away and looked for vegetables in her fridge.

She looked around her kitchen for a moment, watching the family eat and talk, happy with nothing more than each others’ presence. To hell with normal, she though. She didn’t want to forget this. If anything, she wished she could be a part of this, some day, to have a family that loved each other so much like they did.

She suddenly frowned at her brain’s choice of words.

“Hey, is Hell real?”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve no idea…”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! SO sorry for the low flow this week. I had my first final today. I finish next week and after that I will be posting more often. Also, I think we're getting close to the ending.  
> Thank you all for bearing with me during Novembers and now with finals. I really made an effort to post today, I'm so exhausted I kind of have trouble even reading what I'm writing.  
> Hope you enjoy this one!

Castiel excused himself from the table on the pretext of needing to change Zeppelin’s diaper. The baby really did need to be changed, in reality, but Dean and the angel exchanged a knowing look as he stood up and walked out of the kitchen with the baby in his arms. He didn’t even bother looking for the bathroom or a new diaper, with a swift motion of his hand the baby was as clean as new. Instead, he walked out of the house through the main door, closing it quietly behind him. In Josie’s doorstep awaited three angels, and other two were guarding the house’s backdoor to the garden. The neighbours eyed them curiously, but none dared asking the strange group what the hell they were doing outside the house of their usually quiet and very normal neighbour.

There was no point making threats or suspicious inquiries. If the groups of angels had wanted to hurt their children or take them away, they would had had enough time to do it before the Winchesters had arrived back at the house. Neither Dean or Sam had slept at all, the two groups had made their way back to Lebanon as soon as Castiel had heard his daughter’s prayer, requesting their help. Looking back on it, they felt stupid; the hunt had been easy enough, no major setbacks, and the timing of both attacks had been fairly suspicious. They should have never left the children alone with Josie, it had obviously been some sort of trap to separate them. In the end, they’d arrived to find the angels guarding the house as their children and Josie slept, and Dean had nearly lost it when he laid eyes on the angels, not really trusting them to have let her kids alone, but there they were inside, sleeping peacefully. Dean didn’t like it but he couldn’t help being thankful for the angels’ presence. Cas, in the other hand, was moved; _finally,_ his brethren worked for selfless reasons, and for a good cause. They weren’t looking down on him or trying to kill him. If anything, they looked at him expectantly, as if awaiting orders.

Nithael, the angel Balthazar had saved, came forward, keeping a cautious distance between his brother and himself, but looking down at the nephilim baby in Castiel’s arms with curiosity.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did last night,” Cas spoke calmly to the group, “I owe you.”

“No, brother, it was the right thing to do,” Nithael said. “If anything, I only paid back my debt to your boy. Balthazar, is it?”

Cas nodded. “This is Zeppelin,” he said, shifting the baby in his arms, turning him around to look at the angel. Zep cooed some sort of greeting and the angels gathered forward to take a better look at him. “Mary’s the eldest.”

“Fascinating,” Vehuel, in a female vessel, said from over Nithael’s shoulder. “Look at his soul, it’s _perfect_.”

Castiel smiled with a little pride. “Yes, it is.”

Nithael spread his wings in Zep’s direction, feathers hovering just over the baby’s tiny nose. He looked up, profoundly amused and tried to reach for it with his hands. Of course, he couldn’t really touch them.

“Castiel, you told me they’re not from this universe. Why are they here?” Nithael asked.

“In their universe, Lucifer has been set free for the sole purpose of killing them. Their parents have sent them here to protect them while they handle the situation.”

“And what if they don’t beat Lucifer?” Dumah, the third angel, asked, crossing her arms over her chest, looking worried. Just what they needed, _another_ Devil….

“I don’t know,” Cas sighed, “but I’ll protect them as if they’re my own for as long as they stay here.”

“Castiel,” Nithael hesitated for a moment as he regarded his brother, “we were wondering… My wings… The boy fixed them. And yours are looking better too, I assume they’re helping you in that matter too… We will protect your children no matter what you decide but- some of the angels are wondering if your children would be willing to heal their wings.”

Cas shifted, pulling Zep closer to him. He wanted to trust them, he really did, but he felt overly protective of his kids. The angels rarely asked for something so nicely, and rarely protected anyone so selflessly. Suddenly, the way they stared at Zeppelin felt almost invasive. It reminded him of the way angels looked at their children back in their world, waiting for the little gods to grow up and lead them.

“I don’t know, Nithael… It takes a toll on them.”

“I know, I remember the little one falling unconscious but- we’re dying out, Castiel, as a species. And we’re weaker than ever. Without our wings, it’s worst. Demons we can still fight, but if Lucifer comes to this world looking for them, we won’t be of much help, brother. Just- consider it, okay? If the children are willing to help us, they could save us.”

Nithael touched Zep’s nose with a feather and the baby chuckled and reached up again, his hands closing around nothing but air, before the wings retreated. 

Cas watched the sweet interaction as he debated his own feelings. He was a hypocrite if he said no while his daughter fixed his own grace, but he didn't want to make their children Heaven's personal _doctors_. They were asking so nicely, though, and it was true they would need help facing Lucifer if he came into their world... 

“We’ll remain in Earth, we’ll help you protect them for as long as they’re here. Let’s just hope that other version of you and your Winchester beat the Devil, brother.”

* * *

"So, is Heaven real too?" Josie asked.

Sam and the young woman sat in her living room couch, having some much-needed post-lunch coffee. The place was still a mess but there were other things that were keeping her mind busy at the moment. Sam's company helped her relax and calm down, and the distant sound of Dean's laughter and his family's voices that came flying from the kitchen was strangely soothing too. It sounded like easy happiness, something normal and natural. She was glad they hadn't left, the poor woman didn't feel like being alone in her house just now, but at the same time she appreciated the alone-time with the Sam. She needed a little privacy to come down from the roller coaster of emotions while she also needed some questions answered.

Sam nodded.

"Wow. Do you know what it's like?" she unconsciously shifted closer to the man, biting her lip.

"It's nice. It's a collection of your favorite, happiest memories, on re-run, forever."

The waitress nodded, eyes wide in amazement, but then she sighed rather melancholically. “Guess I should start making some memorable memories then, huh?"

The handsome Winchester huffed a laugh and nodded. "Memorable memories," he repeated with a smile. "Yeah, I could definitely use some of those too."

"Have you ever been to Heaven?"

This time, the answer didn't come so easily to Sam. He hesitated; should he really admit to the huge mess his life was or keep some things secret for now? He didn't like the idea of hiding things, though. She deserved to know, deserved the chance to decide for herself if she wanted to keep close to them after learning the mess their lives really were. And she was tough, she'd proved that last night, she didn't scare easy. So Sam thought what the hell, right? He'd better be honest sooner rather than later. Keeping secrets always had a way of coming back to bite them in the ass.

"Yeah. I've… died a couple of times, actually," he said, almost in an ashamed whisper, eyeing her from the corner of his eye as if he feared her reaction.

Josie did a double take on him, blinking a couple of times as she processed that information, wondering at first if she’d even heard him correctly. The curiosity almost overcame her but she forced her mouth shut, knowing it'd probably be too out line if she asked how he'd died and why. However it had happened, surely it couldn’t be a happy story. Time would tell, she figured, or she hoped. If their friendship blossomed, Sam would share the story with her, perhaps, in due time. The woman could see the constrain in his face, the worry in the lines on the corners of his eyes. Was he worried of what she was going to think of him?

Her expression softened as she said, "you're the weirdest person I know, Sam, for sure."

He winced slightly, fixing his eyes on his coffee.

"I meant it as a compliment," she added quickly with a smile and all but melted when Sam looked up with hopeful, puppy eyes. "My dad always used to say I should take it as a compliment when people told me I was weird at school. They never meant it that way, of course. But he said if I was normal, I’d be just like them, and that he loved that I wasn’t. I- I guess it's nice to know he's in Heaven now, for real. I wonder what memories of us he's reliving."

A silence settled between them as the woman clenched her teeth, suddenly overcame with emotion. She knew _exactly_ what memories with her father she would relive the day she went to Heaven.

Sam was looking at her like he wanted to said a million things but he kept quiet, giving her time to decide if she wanted to pursue the subject of her father or drop it. There wasn’t that much he could say about happy memories with parents, really. Josie blushed under his gaze, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat.

"What about ghosts? Are those real?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject, and also in sincere curiosity.

"Very," Sam answered, voice soft, looking down and pretending he didn't notice the tears in her eyes that she was trying to quickly blink away.

"Zombies?"

"Technically, yes. They can rise for a couple of different reasons. I really hate them.”

Josie wrinkled her nose, disgusted at the idea. She could never watch The Walking Dead again. "Vampires?" Sam nodded. "Do they really turn into bats?”

Sam snorted and bent over himself, laughing and shaking his head. Josie couldn't help but laugh, though she punched him on the shoulder.

"Don't laugh at me, I thought this was a safe zone!" she pouted, pretended to be offended.

"It is, it is, I'm sorry," he chuckled.

She bit her lip, thinking he looked much younger and beautiful when he laughed. She had the sad feeling he didn't do that often enough.

"Do you ever think of quitting? Hunting, I mean. I thought _my_ job was tiring, but hunting monsters… It must be exhausting."

"Maybe one day. I've no idea what I'd do with myself though. This is the only life I know."

"Well... I'll offer you a position on my bakery when I open it," she joked, though she secretly wondered if he'd take the offer if one day she really had a bakery. She’d been saving for years and had some money she’d inherited from her dad, but she had still failed to take the final step and just _do it_. The truth was starting a business by herself, without anyone else, putting all her money on it, was terrifying. But if Sam was willing to work with her… With those big, strong hands, he'd surely be of help. She tried not to think about what other things those freaking manly pair of hands could do. "Not sure I could pay you much though."

"That's really kind of you," he smiled. "I think you're the kindest person I know, the kids really like your soul... I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess, Josie."

Another silence fell between them as they stared at each other, Josie’s cheeks blushing as much as ever. Sam looked genuinely sorry but the woman couldn't help thinking a part of her was somehow _glad_ about the weird events of that night. They were okay, after all, no one had been hurt, and she'd found herself in the midst of something truly amazing that most people would never even know about. She’d always felt weird, like she didn’t belong anywhere, _‘special_ ’ her dad would say, and though she knew she probably wasn’t half as weird as these people, she had a strange feeling that it’d be great to be weird with them. Her dad had been right, after all, that it would pay off some day; if she was normal, there wouldn’t be an angel sitting in her kitchen with his half-angel kids, and for God's sake, that was all kinds of awesome. And a very handsome, very kind man was willingly sitting in her living room as she came down from a very close mental breakdown. Not only that, but he'd just called her the kindest person he knew. And then something about her soul, which was weird, but hey, she'd better get used to weirder things, right?

"I'm not sorry, Sam," she said, gazing at him through her eyelashes. "I've felt weird and out of place my entire life. It's kind of nice to find people to be weirdly normal with. I guess I don't even make the cut for _your_ definition of weird," she said with a cheeky grin.

He chuckled again. She had a way of getting a smile out of him easily. "Yeah, you're absolutely normal by our standards."

"I've gotta admit, though... These demon thing- kinda freaks me out," she shifted in her couch, turning to look at the broken furniture and decorations here and there that were evidence of a fight between freaking angels and demons in her house. She couldn’t wait to get that tattoo on her skin.

"Look, maybe I'm a little out of hand here, but- if you want, you could come with us to the bunker. For a while, you know? Until we know it's safe for you to stay here by yourself. It’s not far, I could drive you to the diner in the mornings."

"Oh, no, Sam," she replied, fidgeting with her hair. Sam nodded and looked down at his hands, embarrassed; _of course_ she was going to say no, what was he thinking asking something like that? But the thought of the woman alone in the house all while demons knew she lived there and probably had useful information on them, made an icy cold feeling of worry spread from his spine all the way to his finger tips. He feared she could end up being bate in an evil scheme to lure them in. "I couldn't possibly- I don't want to bother you-"

Sam looked up, half-smiling. Was that why she was saying no, because she thought she was bothering them? He could see it in her face, Josie's own embarrassment reflected back at him, keeping her from saying yes, all while she looked around her own living room with weary eyes; she didn't feel safe there anymore, not all by herself, it was obvious.

"You wouldn't be bothering us,” he said. “On the contrary. Dean's gonna love having you around for a constant supply of pies, the kids really like you, and I- I don't want to leave you here all alone. If you want to come with us, there's plenty of room.”

"Really?"

"Really."

Josie couldn’t help but grin.

“Hmm, okay… I’ll- I’ll pack a bag, I guess.”

Josie handed Sam her cup of coffee and walked up the stairs to her room. She got a small suitcase out of her wardrobe and started throwing the essentials inside, which consisted mostly in clothes. She did, however, stop for a moment as she picked up a framed photo of herself and her dad. She looked down at the man staring back at her and smiled. This was the moment he’d been telling her about her entire life, the moment in which someone amazing and incredible would happen to her, when being weird would finally pay off. Was Sam it? Could he be her reward? It was stupid, childish even, to feel butterflies in her stomach when she thought about him, they barely knew each other, and yet she felt like she already knew him. She knew he was kind and sweet, caring and brave. So, what the hell, who cared if it was crazy? Demons existed, she’d babysat half-angels for two days, why could she not let herself crush on him already? That wouldn’t be the weirdest part of the story by far. The craziest part was that she had the wild feeling he felt the same way.

By the time Josie made it to the bunker, it was already time for dinner. Dean and Cas had gone back to the bunker earlier with their kids, while Sam went with the young woman to get her anti-possession tattoo. Her mouth fell opened when she entered their home and walked down the stairs behind Sam. He did a quick tour of the place, reminded her not to touch anything in case it was a magical object, and conveniently offered her to take the empty room next to his as her own room.

“Kind of retro, but nice,” she said as she looked around the room.

“And it’s free,” he added with a shrug.

“Yeah, I bet secret bunkers don’t pay taxes.”

They laughed and started at each other in an awkward silence.

“Sam!” Dean yelled from the kitchen. “Stop flirting and help me with dinner, or I’m making hamburgers!”

The younger Winchester blushed furiously and turned around.

“No hamburgers, Dean!” he yelled back, then turned to Josie, who was biting her lip, fighting the urge to grin. “Yeah, so, hmm, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Sam. I think I’ll just take a shower before dinner, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, sure,” Sam walked away quickly, trying hard not to picture that. _Get a grip_ , he told himself.

Sam really wanted to be mad at Dean for embarrassing him, but the man seemed to be struggling with vegetables, eyeing them like they were something unknown and suspicious, and Sam couldn’t help taking pity on him (and laughing at him too); at least he was _trying_.

“Dean, it’s an eggplant, not a bomb.”

“Looks just as bad to me,” Dean mumbled and handed it over. His brother rolled his eyes and made quick work of some vegetables with a knife, throwing them into a pan. Dean leant against the counter, watching him for a moment. “So… Josie, huh?”

His brother raised an eyebrow and looked at him quickly from the corner of his eyes. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Dean couldn’t help grinning. “You’re gonna make me say it?”

Sam pretended he didn’t know what he was talking about as he looked down at the pan and threw some condiments into the mix of vegetables. That’d make a nice pie.

Dean pretended he didn’t notice the thin smile in his lips.

“It’s nice to see you back in the game, Sammy,” he simply said, patting his brother in the back.

The eldest Winchester set the table and called his family to the table. He really enjoyed how easily they were all falling into the habit of having dinner together. Sitting down, all of them together, around the table to share a meal, was something so simple yet to great. It was all Dean had ever wanted, really; a family to live for. He was even glad to have Josie join in.

“The water pressure here is amazing,” she commented as she walked in. The table was really small for all of them now, they’d have to start having meals in the war room or the library.

“Right?” Dean looked up, smiling. “I said the same the first time I had a shower. Cas, go get Rowena, dinner’s ready.”

Cas nodded and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Zep with Dean.

“Who’s Rowena?” Josie asked as she took a seat next to Balthazar.

“Aunt Rowena is a witch,” the boy told her, raising his eyebrows dramatically.

“A witch?” Josie repeated, a little uncertain, looking up at Sam for reassurance. That was probably the woman she saw in Sam’s car.

“Don’t call her your aunt, Balthazar,” Dean said, wrinkling his nose. He didn’t love the nickname on the witch.

“Why not?”

“She's not _really_ family.”

“But you always say family don't end in blood! And you taught me to love all of grandpa’s creation. She's his creation too!” Balthazar pointed out rather cleverly, causing his dad to pause and frown.

“He's not wrong…” Mary mumbled.

“Don’t encourage him,” Dean laughed. But he couldn’t be too worry about it, not when Rowena’s face lit up when she saw Balthazar. She seemed changed, _really_ changed, and who was he to judge her? He knew a lot about mistakes and redemption. Maybe he could really show her a better path.

Dean struggled even through dinner to stay awake. Sam’s vegetable pie wasn’t half bad, but again, he’d never admit to that, he even blamed the good taste as an illusion from his lack of attention. He really wanted to fight his brain and stay awake, specially as his angel followed him back into his- no, _their_ room, after they’d laid Zeppelin down for the night. He wanted to be awake, to be present in the moment, as this was the first time he was going to share the room with the angel, but his eyelids felt heavy.

The man sighed deeply and sat in the edge of the bed, resting his head on his hands. He felt a little nervous, on edge, but most his worries were drowned by exhaustion. He couldn’t begin to feel embarrassed or self-conscious, he was too tired for that shit, so when Cas sat down next to him, he merely noticed that he was leaning against the angel’s shoulder out of instinct.

“You’re tired,” Cas pointed out, a hand coming to run through Dean’s hair.

“That’s an understatement,” Dean groaned. His brain thought it felt nice, the way Castiel’s fingers softly caressed the top of his head. Dean looked up and found himself face to face with the angel, the tips of their noses touching. He’d been looking forward to this, secretly, to being back home, in peace, and have time to work out whatever was happening between them. A part of him wanted to explore the possibilities, the things he was allowed to do now, though he’d usually be stopped by shame. Not tonight, though, he was too tired to overthink things. He was just thankful his family was okay and safe, and desperately wanted to give into the feeling of peace while he could. Without thinking, he closed what little space was between their lips, and kissed Cas. It was a soft, rather innocent kiss, but the easiness of it made Cas feel it all through his body.

Dean’s hand moved up unconsciously, fisting the front of Cas’ trench-coat, pulling him closer. He both loved that coat and at the same time he thought it was kind of funny that Cas still wore it. He wondered if the angel had stopped wearing it back in the other universe and a part of him thought he’d never want to see the thing completely gone for too long; it suited Cas nicely.

The warmth of Castiel’s mouth on his felt oh _so_ welcoming, their stubbles scratching their skin in contrast to their soft lips moving against each other’s. Dean loved it when Cas exhaled softly into his mouth and the human could have just fallen asleep like that, kissing Cas, when suddenly Balthazar burst into the room. Dean jumped back and looked around, suddenly very awake and alert, his cheeks red as tomatoes. The boy didn’t seem at all disturbed or surprised to see the two men in such close proximity, and he climbed up Castiel’s lap looking completely unrattled and content.

“Papa, are you coming? I’ve picked a book already,” he showed Castiel the book he’d chosen, an old one that was probably not suitable for a bedtime story, but Balthazar liked the pretty, shiny letters in the cover, though he wasn’t entirely sure what they said.

“Oh, right, I forgot,” Cas huffed a laugh, running a hand down his boy’s hair. “Go lay down, I’ll be right there, alright, son?”

“Alright.”

Baltz jumped down the angel’s lap and ran out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Dean stared after him, now at the empty hallway, as embarrassment made his heart race furiously.

“You think he saw us?” he whispered, to which Castiel laughed.

“Dean, I’m sure he’s used to seeing his parents showing affection,” Cas smiled and stood up. “Lay down, Dean. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll try to wait up for you,” Dean said but almost immediately after yawned.

When Cas left, Dean stood in the room for a moment, considering what to do. Cas hadn’t laid with him the night they spent at the motel; he’d stayed up doing research. The one night they’d spent together, Dean had slept with all his clothes on. He couldn’t keep doing that; it wasn’t just ridiculous, but also uncomfortable. Before his brain had time to object, he started undressing, letting his clothes drop in the floor until he was wearing nothing but his underwear. He didn’t want to think what Castiel was going to do when he returned, didn’t want to freak out or create weird expectations, so he simply laid his head on the pillow, covered himself and waited. He was already almost dreaming when the angel returned.

Cas stood by the door for a moment, looking down at Dean’s clothes on the floor. He swallowed hard as he blushed, then looked up to see Dean’s naked shoulders from under the covers. He wasn’t sure what he should do, what _Dean_ would want him to do, but if the man had taken his clothes off, maybe it was alright for him to do the same.

Slowly, he took his clothes off too and folded them carefully. He felt stupidly excited, like a teenager, as he climbed into the beds and lifted the covers, watching Dean’s almost naked body laying underneath. He smiled to himself, feeling honoured to be welcomed in the man’s bed, and carefully laid next to him. Dean was vaguely aware of the mattress sinking behind him, but when the angel put an arm around him, Dean unconsciously leaned back to press his back against Cas’ stomach, their legs entwined. The angel smiled, pulling Dean closer, letting his hand rest in the man’s stomach. He could feel Dean’s muscles, relaxed but still firm, and he buried his face in Dean’s hair. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Dean’s shoulder for a moment.

“Good night, Dean.”

It was the first day of what all days should be like, Cas thought, but little did they know, it wasn’t going to last much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (turmblr users): weeklyspn ; cheerfulsammy ; frozen-delight ; mishacolins ; fuckyeahsupernaturall ; bilosan ; acklesjensen


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For better or for worse, finals are over! I'm hoping to catch up with my writing this weekend. Thank you all for putting up with the low flow of chapters these past 2 weeks, hopefully it's going to be better from now on!  
> Here you have some more, I hope you like it.  
> Thank you for sticking around with the story, and your kudos & comments, you guys are awesome.

Dean woke up with his arms and legs entangled with Castiel's, his head buried on the other's man neck and most of his his body on top of the angel’s, pinning him to the bed. He didn't move for a while as his brain slowly started to regain consciousness. Something in him naively reasoned that if he didn't move a muscle, if he pretended he was still sleeping, perhaps he could stay there forever, and that sounded really appealing. He felt warm and comfortable, and the skin on skin contact felt like an unspoken but very real confession of love. But soon enough Castiel's hand started moving up and down his back when the angel noticed the change in Dean's breathing, a subtle cue that gave the man away.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas spoke against his ear, voice gentle and affectionate. It made Dean's insides twist with butterflies and he smiled despite of himself.

The man merely grunted a response and buried his face deeper into Cas' skin. The angel chuckled and pulled Dean closer, holding him tightly against him. He would have never dared to dream he’d be allowed to hold him like that, it was way beyond his wildest dreams but he was immensely grateful to his Father for allowing this to happen.

Dean nearly fell asleep again but he wanted to stay awake out of whim, to treasure the moment and engrave in his memory what it felt like to be this close to Cas, his skin pressed against the angel’s, shamelessly laying together. They didn't get a lot of alone time, let alone in bed, and that quickly reminded him of his kids and his duties as a new dad.

"What time is it? Isn't Zep up yet?" he asked, lips brushing against the angel's neck as he spoke.

Castiel’s breath hitched and he went stiff for just a moment as he rejoiced in the new sensation. It felt good, _too good_. Dean noticed and the tiniest of smug smirks found its way to his lips. _Not so cocky now, huh?_ he thought, looking back on all those smartass sexual comments the angel had been throwing at him in the past few days.

"Not yet, but soon, surely," Cas answered.

"So we don't have a lot of time," Dean said, moving his lips against the other man’s neck again very much on purpose.

“I-I guess not,” Cas replied, and he sounded hilariously out of breath in Dean’s opinion.

“We’d better make the best out of it then, don’t you think?” Dean whispered, grinning mischievously, although Cas couldn’t see his face.

The angel frowned, a little confused, but it only lasted a moment because the following second Dean’s lips begun to move slowly but deliberately against his neck, with an expertise that was almost unfair. The warmth of Dean’s breath against his neck and the movement of his soft, wet lips was enough to make Castiel sigh and close his eyes, too stunned for a moment to do anything else. It had been _years_ since he’d engaged in the pleasures of the flesh and he was now reacting embarrassingly easy to the physical sensations he wasn’t used to exploring. Dean added a pressure to the kisses, his tongue joining in on the attack as he sucked and nip on Castiel’s skin, and the angel let out a sound that was something between a sigh and a moan. Dean tried to play dumb and not admit what that sound did to him.

“You like that, don’t you, Cas?” he asked, eyes closed, smiling as he continued to kiss him. When Cas just nodded dumbly once, Dean chuckled, then continued to slowly leave a trail of kisses from the angel’s neck, up his jaw and until their lips met. He was getting drunk on the power he seemed to have over the angel; it was fascinating how easily he became undone by some simple kisses. What he’d do if Dean went even further was a very intriguing question running wild through the man’s head.

Castiel’s mouth opened to let Dean’s tongue in with a naturality that seemed second-nature to him. It was like Dean belonged there, with his lips on Cas’. He made no objection when Dean moved against his body, shifting to position himself properly on top of Cas with his knees on either side of the angel’s hips. He lowered his body, desperate to feel the warmth of the angel’s skin against his again and for as long as possible. There was something magical about feeling Castiel’s stomach rise and fall with his breathing against Dean’s stomach, feeling the sharp edges of the other’s hips against his own, but the angel’s response to Dean’s kisses distracted him from these sensations; Cas was hard against Dean.

The man gulped, suddenly hesitating and very aware of what he was doing, but _damn_ , he couldn’t deny he also felt _excited_ ¸ he liked causing that effect on the angel. And, fuck, it’d been so long not just since he’d shared a bed with someone else, but it’d been even longer since he’d laid like this with someone he actually _cared_ about. And there was no one and would _never_ be anyone he’d care for more than Cas, not like this. And the way Cas held him back, his arms pulling Dean impossibly closer, fingers mapping his back greedily, let him know the other felt the same way. Dean wanted it, wanted to love Cas the way he deserved to be loved, emotionally _and_ physically, he couldn’t shy away from it. And for once, he didn’t _want_ to. Finally, love outweighed any fear, any doubt, and Dean could feel his won arousal growing strong against the angel’s.

Without even thinking, he rolled his hips against the Castiel’s, feeling his hardness enhancing against Dean’s own growing erection. Cas moaned into his mouth and opened his eyes.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he asked, sounding beautifully out of breath.

"I've no idea," Dean chuckled nervously before his lips were back in the angel’s. And it was true, he had no idea what the hell he was doing or wanted to accomplish here, but that very familiar tingling sensation had woken up low in his belly and it only got stronger as he continued to roll his hips against Castiel’s. He felt like a freaking teenager, dry-humping the other man, but he honestly had no idea how to touch a man. Which was ironical and honestly a bit of a lie, because Dean _was_ a man and he sure as hell knew how to pleasure himself.

A part of him was grateful that Castiel didn’t seem to expect things to go any further, because Dean didn’t think he was ready to take things into the next level; he was okay with this, _more than okay_ , really, but he didn’t want to push things and risk ruining them with another stupid panic attack. They’d get there in due time. For now, they both found more than enough pleasure in their desperate kisses and the friction caused by Dean’s insisting thrusts. Feeling the whole hard length of Castiel’s cock and hearing his choked moans against his own mouth as the angel came, untouched, was more than enough to get Dean to found his own release, spilling inside his underwear like he was 17 all over again.

Dean collapsed on top of him, absolutely choosing to ignore the mess in his underwear, breathing hard as Cas held him, before he rolled over and off of Cas to lay by his side.

“That was-”

“-awesome,” Dean finished for the angel with a nod, his cheeks flushed.

“Awesome,” Cas repeated, staring at the ceiling with a vacant expression as the aftermath of his orgasm still ran through him, impeding his brain from producing any coherent thoughts.

One of the angel’s hand found its way to Dean’s head, his fingers running through the man’s short hair. Dean sighed contently, feeling happier than he could ever remember. He could almost feel love feeling every void in his soul his children hated seeing.

“I love you, Cas,” he spoke without even thinking, smiling to himself.

Cas grinned, feeling his heart beating fast against his chest and a weird but pleasant sensation settling in his stomach; what people called butterflies, he supposed. It felt nice.

“I love you too, Dean,” he replied.

Dean looked up, grinning like an idiot, and opened his mouth to speak, but Cas suddenly sighed and started to sat up.

“Zep is up,” he informed Dean.

“Damn, you’re the world’s greatest nanny.”

Dean sighed and looked down at himself, acknowledging the mess in his boxers for the first time.

“I’d better shower,” he mumbled, cheeks turning pink for a moment.

“No need,” Cas said, and with a wave of his hands they were both clean.

“Well, that’s convenient,” Dean smiled. “Thanks.”

“It’s alright,” Cas shrugged it off as he stood up and started dressing up, “now that my grace’s been fully restored, I don’t mind doing those small favours.”

“Wait, what?” Dean sat up, frowning in confusion. “What do you mean your grace’s restored?”

Cas looked at him for a moment as if he expected Dean to make his own conclusions with enough time, but the Winchester just sat in the bed, waiting.

“I mean I’m back to full power.”

Dean’s mouth fell opened a little as his eyes quickly scanned the angel, looking at him up and down as if he could see his grace and spot some kind of change. Cas looked just the same, he’d noticed no difference in him in the past few days… Though now that he came to think of it, during their hunt the angel had been able to make an impressive use of his grace without getting the slightest tired or agitated… as if he was back on full power. Dean hadn’t payed attention to that before, he’d been too worried about his kids and getting back to them as soon as possible. Now he wondered how he hadn’t noticed before.

Castiel threw his shirt over his shoulders and walked out of the room. Dean jumped off the bed and hurried after him as he snatched his jeans and shirt from the floor.

“Wow, wow, hey, Cas,” he called the angel as he ran after him through the hallway. Cas merely looked back at him over his shoulder as he entered his old room. “You need to do some explaining here, man. How is that even possible?”

“Mary’s been feeding me small doses of her grace,” the angel admitted, looking away from Dean as he approached their son’s crib. “She offered and I-” _I couldn’t help myself…_

Cas sighed. He had the uncomfortable feeling he was admitting to some kind of dirty secret or inappropriate deed. He loved Earth, loved humanity, loved Dean, and would gladly stay with his feet on the ground until the day Dean’s soul departed this plane of existence for good, but Cas wasn’t human and he would never _feel_ human. He felt strange with his damaged grace, like something was missing, and he felt vulnerable and trapped with his broken wings. It was a small price to pay for his sins, he had more or less come to terms with his punishment for his dumb mistakes, but then Mary had come along, so sweetly offering to make him once again what he was supposed to be; a _proper_ angel of the Lord. He didn’t consider himself _better_ than humans, but he just wasn’t one of them. He felt somewhat ashamed to want more than to be almost human, and feared Dean would take it personally, somehow. But it was also _because_ of him that Castiel had chosen to heal; what if Cas couldn’t spare a piece of his broken grace to have children? He’d hate to be the reason Dean couldn’t have a family. This way, he was making sure they could have a happy future together, he’d make all of Dean’s desires come true. And also, one day, Dean would die, and then what? What would become of Castiel? He had no intentions of being down on Earth for all of eternity without him. His time on Earth was merely temporary, and it was nothing compared to how old he really was. No, when Dean died, Castiel would follow him, just like he followed him anywhere else. It only felt right that he should return home as an angel.

“Cas,” Dean spoke softly, a hand coming to rest at the angel’s shoulder as Cas lifted Zep from the crib. The baby was barely awake, laying his head comfortably against Cas’ shoulder, eyes still closed. Dean didn’t sound angry, just a little sorry, and for that the angel was grateful. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The angel turned around to face Dean. He looked back at him expectantly, but with a soft expression in his face. “I suppose I feared you would misunderstand my intentions. I intend on staying with you on Earth for as long as you live, but… I’m not really human, Dean. I’ll never be human, even if I’m powerless. And I… I wanted to be strong again. For you. For _us_. To protect you and the children, to give you a family-”

Dean interrupted him with a kiss. When he pulled away, he had a sheepish smile on his face and was looking at Cas with nothing but affection. He looked down between them at their son, and kissed the top of Zep’s head before he looked back up at Cas.

“It’s okay, I understand, just… We need to be able to talk about these things, Cas. Okay?”

The angel shifted in his place, looking a little guilty. “Well, in that case, I suppose I should tell you about the other angels…”

Dean’s smile faltered for just a moment. “What about the other angels?”

“They know the children can heal their wings, and they’ve asked me if they would be willing to do it for them.”

“Nope,” Dean replied at once, suddenly pulling Zeppelin away from Cas. He turned on his heels and laid the baby on the bed to change him, choosing to momentarily ignore the angel as if that would bring an end to the subject.

“Dean-”

“No, Cas, no way,” Dean insisted, almost childishly trying to avoid the subject.

“Dean, _listen_ to me,” Cas sighed and sat on the edge of the bed as he watched Dean change Zep’s diaper. “They’re here to help and-”

“And I’m really grateful about what they did the other night, Cas, honestly, I am,” the man said, stealing a glance in Castiel’s direction, then focusing again in the diaper because the last thing he wanted was to accidently touch his son’s wastes, “but I’m _not_ going to let my kids anywhere near them again.”

“Well, this is awkward…” Cas looked down at his hands, shoulders dropping with guilt.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “What is it now?”

“They’re outside the bunker, guarding the premises.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Language, Dean.”

The man rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t even know how to speak yet, Cas.”

“And hopefully his first word won’t be ‘jerk’ or ‘bitch’.”

Dean had to supress a snort because he was _not_ going to laugh, this was a serious conversation, so he bit the insides of his cheeks and told himself to keep a straight face.

“Dean, please, just hear me out. We might need help in the future, and I’m sure you’ve noticed we’ve ran out of allies.”

The man sighed. “You don’t need to remind me. Do I need to remind _you_ they tried to _kill_ the kids? Like, a _week_ ago?”

“And then they _saved_ them. Dean, if Lucifer comes, we won’t be able to face him alone.”

Dean fastened the diaper at both sides with the tabs and pulled the baby up to his chest, patting his back with affection as he came to sit next to Cas, throwing a look of accusation at the angel, as if just speaking of the Devil would summon him.

“You don’t know that he’s coming. And even if he does, we’ve beat Lucifer before, we can do it again.”

“Are you willing to bet that on our children’s lives?” Castiel asked, the question being harsher than he’d intended. He didn’t mean to be hard on Dean, but this was a conversation that needed to happen. Dean looked taken aback for a moment, then anger flashed across his face, but he remained silent. “There’s a reason they sent the kids away and you know that. If they fall, we need to be the second line of defence and we have to be ready. The angels could help us but they need to be stronger, like I am now.”

Dean scoffed and shook his head. He hated the thought of depending on angels once again or even working with them. They’d been borderline enemies for a long time; they were condescending with annoying, huge egos, and their priorities were usually pretty fucked up, in Dean’s opinion. But just the thought of Lucifer coming for his kids made his stomach twist uncomfortably… It was a long shot, the Devil would probably not even bother coming to get the nephilim that were now out of his way, but because it was in Dean’s nature to be overprotective, he didn’t want to risk it. He’d be damned if he admitted to it, but Castiel was probably right, they needed help. He had to protect the kids, no matter what, he had to be ready; better safe than sorry.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood up and paced around the room. Zep was looking more alive by the minute and, surely, he’d soon start complaining about the lack of a bottle in his mouth.

“Let’s just- let’s just see what the kids say,” Dean finally said. “I don’t want to pressure them into this.”

“You know Balthazar will want to do it.”

Dean sighed. “He’s got a real hero complex, that one.”

“I wonder where he gets it from,” Cas said in a very unusual demonstration of sarcasm, looking at the man up and down. Dean narrowed his eyes at him. Cas couldn’t help but smile and walked up to Dean, talking Dean’s free hand into his own. “Come on, it’s time for breakfast.”

When Dean and Cas walked hand in hand into the kitchen, Sam couldn’t help but do a double take as he turned to greet them. He huffed a laugh, having trouble believing his eyes for a moment, but then smiled fondly at the sight.

Dean blushed furiously but the angel looked perfectly content with himself. Eventually, he dropped his hand to get a bottle ready for Zep as Dean sat down next to Mary and across the table from Josie.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Dean said, planting a kiss in her forehead. Mary smiled sleepily and kept stuffing her mouth with pie. “Please tell me we’re going to have an endless supply of pies around here, Josie.”

“Yes,” the woman smiled and gave Dean a look of complicity at the same time Cas and Sam shouted ‘no’ over their shoulders. Josie mouthed a silent ‘yes’ again and Dean gave her a thumb up behind her brother’s and the angel’s back while the woman pushed the last piece of pie in his direction.

“Papa, can we go outside this afternoon? I want to show you something, with my grace,” Mary asked Castiel just as Balthazar walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and yawning.

“Morning, son,” Dean said, running a hand through the boy’s hair, messing it up even more, if it was possible.

The boy waved lazily in his direction and sat next to Josie.

“Pie,” he whispered in a sleepy voice, smiling easily and reaching for Dean’s plate.

“That's my pie…” Dean said under his breath, his face dropping a little as he watched his son eat his portion of pie.

Sam snorted. “Let the kid have pie, Dean, I’ll bring you some more later.”

Dean sat back on his chair as Cas handled him Zep’s bottle. The baby latched onto it fiercely, sucking at the nipple happily, his little hands coming to rest on top of Dean’s as he held the bottle to his mouth. The man couldn’t help but smile as he looked around the kitchen at his table. _Yeap, this is what life’s supposed to be like,_ he thought. This is all he ever wanted and he was going to protect them with all his might.

That afternoon, Mary helped them take a step forward in that direction. Dean held Balthazar’s hand nervously as the family stepped out of the bunker and joined the other angels in the forested area that surrounded their home. The celestial beings greeted them politely, their eyes lingering in the kids more than they did on the humans. Dean didn’t mind it; at least while the attention wasn’t on him, he didn’t have to pretend and force smiles.

The boy pulled at him, eager to join his papa’s side of the family, and eventually Dean let go of his hand and allowed him to run freely. Balthazar spread his wings and flew around a couple of times, popping into existence here and there while he giggled madly.

“Holy shit,” Josie gasped under her breath as she watched the boy appeared and disappeared around the woods. Sam stole a glance in her direction and smiled. “How-?”

“He’s flying,” he explained. “Well, more like learning to.”

"Right, baby angel learning to fly..." she huffed a laugh, her eyes dancing around the area, looking for the next spot in which the boy would reappear. She couldn't believe she was lucky enough to witness all of this.

“Balthazar, come here,” Mary called him and his brother appeared by her side at once. The girl sat on the grass and patted the ground next to her. “Sit with me.”

The boy obeyed and took a sit next to her. He looked up at the angels that slowly gathered around them, and smiled. Mary eyes them warily; she wasn’t so easily forgiving but Cas had talked to her and the girl agreed that they needed as many allies as possible. Maybe they could go into their universe and help their parents, maybe they could do something useful for once, put their powers to good use.

“Daddy, give me Zep for a moment,” she asked Cas as she lifted her arms towards him. Cas frowned in confusion. “I need him, to show you something we did the other night.”

Cas handed the baby over to her and Mary sat her brother on her lap. She held the baby with a hand in his belly securely keeping him in place, while her other hand reached for Balthazar’s.

“Remember what we did, Baltz? When we moved together?” she asked him and he nodded right away.

“That was weird,” he grinned, suddenly excited. It had been very strange but very cool. He’d felt more powerful and in control than ever, and together they had very easily defeated none other than demons. “Are we doing that again?”

“Let’s try,” she said with a nod that her brother quickly reciprocated. “Close your eyes,” she instructed him and she did the same. “Let me guide you, Baltz.”

Mary was sure physical contact was the key, somehow. They were still very human, but they could be so much more… She held her brothers tightly as she moved her soul and grace around them. She didn’t usually make use of her soul, but that other night she had, and the three of them had somehow been _one_ , a being more powerful than any she’d ever known, so she had to try it again if she had any hopes of helping her family defeat the Devil.

The girl screwed up her face with concentration as she let her soul and grace trace gentle circles around them. Zep’s soul liked it, he felt drawn to her sister’s dance, and soon his own soul and grace were following her; it came easier to him, he hadn’t learned to separate them yet, which made him that much more dangerous yet _mighty_. Balthazar struggled the most, holding onto her sister’s hands to keep himself grounded.

“Let go,” Mary whispered to her brother, “forget about your body, brother. Just… _be_.”

Mary struggled to guide her incorporeal self and Zep’s closer to Balthazar’s until they couldn’t tell each other’s apart anymore. Their souls and graces seemed to melt into one. They couldn’t tell where one ended and the other started, they worked as one although it was still just essentially them, guided by the eldest sibling who shook a little with concentration.

Slowly, the incredible wave of energy they’d formed crawled cautiously toward one of the angels. The angel stood very still as the flow of raw grace and soul snaked up her legs and then melted into her chest where it found her grace. She gasped and curved in on herself as the immensurable force ran through her. A brilliant white light emanated from her and the humans quickly covered her eyes. As the angel spread her wings for the first time in a long time, the children’s graces and soul went back to place instantly as Mary lost concentration.

The angels all looked at one another, amazed, while the humans exchanged glances of confusion. Sam was about to ask what had happened when Dean dropped to the floor and took Mary’s face in his hands; her nose was bleeding.

“Mary, are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked as he helped her daughter to her feet, taking the baby from her.

The girl looked a little disconcerted and it took her a moment to focus her eyes on Dean, but then she nodded lazily, wiping the blood off with the back of her hand. Cas dropped to his knees and with a wave of his hand, all traces of blood were gone.

“Did you see that, daddy?” Balthazar asked, grinning broadly.

“Yes, son, I did,” Cas smiled back.

“ _What_ did you see, exactly?” Rowena asked with curiosity.

“We healed her,” Mary explained, feeling her chest swelling with pride. It was the firs time she healed an angel without passing out. A bloody nose, she could take that, she didn’t care.

“What do you mean, _we_?” Dean asked.

“Papa told me once, we’re made of the same grace, we’re connected…” Mary replied. “Baltz, Zep and I… We’re not _just_ the same grace, we’re the same soul too. We’re the same, in a way. And the other night, when we were in danger, and we were touching, we just- we just _moved_ together. And we’re stronger like that. We’re-”

“We’re so strong!” Balthazar smiled broadly and the angels beamed at him with excitement. “We can cure them all, papa!”

“We can beat Lucifer,” Mary said under her breath with determination, locking eyes with Dean.

Dean swallowed hard; he didn’t like where this was going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif soures (tumblr users and random google search): thejabberwock ; samswinchesters ; subcas ; deanjackles


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I hope you're all doing fine and enjoying your summer or winter vacations, wherever you're from!  
> I'd been hoping to update sooner, but I got a job (yay!) which keeps me a little busier.  
> I hope you enjoy it. We're getting really close to the end of the story O:

The following couple of days, the three little Winchesters went to sit on the grass outside the bunker in the afternoons and became one under the careful watch of their family and the growing number of angels that came down from Heaven to join their brethren on Earth. The nephilim healed two angels a day, and though every single time Mary ended up with a bleeding nose, she was starting to get better at it, leading her brothers with a little more ease every time they tried again. As the days went by, she became less exhausted after their practises. Balthazar always let her lead and Zeppelin simply contributed with his raw source of energy, trusting blindly in his siblings to show him the way, wherever they went and whatever they chose to do; funny enough, he was, perhaps, the strongest of the three of them, the purest in his essence. Cas seemed proud and happy of what his children were doing, putting their powers to good and selfless use, and the angels were grateful beyond words; they had them eating out of their hands. They respected Mary and what she was accomplishing, and cherished Balthazar’s pureness of heart. They seemed fascinated by the children and had long forgotten their laws against them. Once again, it was as if they were back home, in their universe, where angels looked up to them and treated them as if they were part of their own brethren.

But Dean watched from afar and felt a heavy, warm weight in his chest accompanied by an uncomfortable tingling sensation that spread from his core to the very tip of his fingers and was deafening at times, though he remained quiet and secretly preoccupied, forcing affectionate smiles when Balthazar turned to him expecting to see a proud look on his father’s face.

He watched his younger daughter grow stronger and smile proudly with a look of determination on her face every time she succeeded in merging with her brothers. This was a girl with a plan, Dean could tell, he _knew_ that look very well; it was all his, all Winchester, all reckless and hopeful and potentially _dangerous_ , and he couldn’t bare it. What was worse was that he didn’t think anyone else was sharing his worries; Castiel encouraged them, if anything, and Sam and Josie just watched them with curiosity and awe, merely grateful to be able to witness things that could be described as miracles. It was only ever with Rowena who Dean locked up eyes with and saw his own concerns reflected back at him in her own eyes. She didn’t like this one bit either, but what the hell could they do about it?

Well, Rowena seemed to have something in mind.

The blue-eyed angel sat at in front of Zep’s highchair, trying to feed the boy some baby food, while Dean busied himself preparing that day’s lunch; he felt like having some steaks and mashed potatoes, and was currently peeling them as he stole glances in Cas’ direction, unaware that he was grinning. The baby all but ignored the spoon with squash puree and smiled expectantly up at Castiel. This was a daily ongoing battle between father and son, and Cas rarely ever won.

“You’re pampering him too much, you should stop feeding him your grace,” Dean said.

“I can’t do that, Dean, he’ll starve,” Cas replied. “He doesn’t like human food at all.”

“Because he’s always full on grace!”

Cas pressed his lips together into a thin line and Dean raised an eyebrow, smiling smugly, knowing the angel agreed with him but was too proud to admit it. Feeding Zeppelin on grace was much easier than their daily struggle with solid food.

The angel was about to argue again when their middle son came running into the kitchen, followed by the red-haired witch seconds later. The boy came to an abrupt stop in front of Dean, looking back at the witch as he swayed in the tip of his tiptoes.

“Dean,” the witch started slowly, very much on purpose referring to the man instead of the angel, standing with her back to Cas, “I was wondering… Now that Balthazar is clearly much more in control on his powers, do you think I could take him to the park this afternoon?”

Dean’s smile faltered a little; he didn’t _love_ the way she’d just put him under the spotlight. His son looked up at him, his eyes full of hope as he all but jumped in place with excitement, while Cas lifted his head to stare at Dean, waiting for his response.

Clearly, the angel still didn’t seem to think it was a great idea to take their boy to the playground, but then Dean looked at the witch, who was looking back at him with an intensity that was peculiar, if anything; there was something she wanted to say but she didn’t, for some reason. Was it because Cas was present?

“Daddy, I just want to play in the swings once!” Balthazar begged, his hands fisting the front of Dean’s shirt. “I promise, I won’t even play with other kids!”

The man bit his lip and screwed up his face, looking down at his boy with pity; the pleading look on Balthazar’s eyes was almost enough to make him say yes right there and then.

“Well,” Dean scratched the back of his neck. He swore he could feel the angel boring holes into him. But just as he thought of the child’s other parent, he felt a rebellious spark ignite in him; if Castiel could so easily support choices he didn’t agree with regarding their children, so could Dean. “I… I guess we could give it a go, son.”

Balthazar gasped, surprised; he hadn’t expected Dean to say yes, at least not _that_ easily. “Really?” he asked as he jumped, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah, what the hell… If you can heal angels, I’m pretty sure you can handle the swings,” Dean shrugged. He stole a quick glance in the angel’s direction; Castiel didn’t look precisely _mad_ , but he didn’t seem thrilled either, jaw clenching slightly as he observed him. He gave Dean a look that silently asked _what the hell, Dean._ A pang of guilt twitched in the man’s stomach, but his son was throwing his arms around his waist and he couldn’t help but think it was somehow the right decision.

“Thank you, daddy, thank you! I promise I will be good,” Baltz grinned and then turned around to hug with witch.

“Come on, let’s decide what toys we’ll take to the playground, my love,” the witch told him and grabbed his hand before walking out of the kitchen, looking over her shoulder to wink an eye at Dean before she disappeared.

Dean could _feel_ Castiel staring at him. He continued peeling potatoes innocently, their son’s soft cooeing sounds the only thing that could be heard in the kitchen for a couple of minutes.

“Dean,” Cas started softly.

Dean sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he looked up. “Come on, Cas, have some faith in him. He’s been doing great, hasn’t had a single accident in days.”

“If he hurts someone-”

“He won’t, I’ll make sure. Kid deserves some fun, he’s just a boy, not only a servant of Heaven.”

Cas sighed. He felt guilty, in some level, for keeping his boy from being, in fact, a _boy_. They’d dedicated so many days in a row to healing angels and practising to get a grip of their powers, perhaps Dean was right, maybe Balthazar was ready to join the human world as well.

The angel simply nodded and went back to his original task of feeding their youngest. There wasn't much improvement there, and when the rest of the family arrived for lunch, he decided to give up and cede her seat to Sam. Cas thought it was curious how Sam paid no attention to where he sat during lunch, when Josie wasn’t there with them since she was still working, but always ended up sitting next to her during dinner. He smiled to himself softly and hoped that those two didn’t take as long as Dean and himself had done to get together.

Around the time they would normally head out of the bunker and meet the angels outside, Rowena walked into the war room with little Balthazar right next to her, looking too fancy for a stroll in the park but apparently determined to join them nonetheless. The boy was beaming, looking more excited than ever, a backpack with his car toys hanging in his shoulders, and shifted impatiently in his place.

“Shall we, Dean?” she asked.

“We’re ready, dad!” Balthazar yelled excitedly.

“Where are you going?” Mary asked, lifting her gaze from her book, peeking from the library into the war room with curiosity. “It’s almost time to practise, Baltz.”

“Not today!” he dismissed her quickly, barely acknowledging his sister.

“What do you mean? Surely there’s nothing more important than-”

“I’m going to the park!” he explained, grinning widely, pulling from the witch’s hand happily as Dean got up from his seat and walked towards them. “I’m finally going to the park, Mary!”

Mary bit the insides of her cheeks and tried to smile; she wanted to feel happy for her brother, but she also really wanted to practise the mergence. The faster they perfectioned their technique, the more powerful they became, and the sooner they could go back to their universe and save their parents, their entire family and friends. But how could she tell Balthazar to stay and exercise with her when she knew this was something he had been waiting for for so long? He didn’t even understand the urgency of the situation, didn’t know a single thing about the Devil and the danger their parents were in. To him, this was some odd adventure he’d probably forget later on in life. She couldn’t, she thought about it day and night, wondering what their parents were up to, if they were safe or hurt, dead or alive.

“Well, hmm… Have fun,” she said and smiled at him, but there was an unmistakable look of disappointment in her eyes. Balthazar couldn’t tell, of course, too lost in his own joy to be able to read into the subtlety of her sister’s reaction, but Dean didn’t miss it. He felt terrible because he felt _happy_ that he was somehow interrupting his daughter’s plans very much on purpose.

Dean walked right passed Castiel and stopped for a moment in front of him. The angel didn’t say anything, and Dean didn’t know whether that was better or worse, whether it make him feel shittier or relieved. Shyly, he reached for Cas’ free hand before dropping a kiss in the top of Zeppelin’s head. The show of affection was subtle and really tiny, but Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise nonetheless and smiled from his place in the table.

“It’ll be fine, relax, Cas,” Dean said, his voice grave and more serious than it should be; it was just a damn stroll through the park, really. Not like Balthazar was freaking Godzilla, why did Dean feel so terrible about this?

Cas nodded and offered a small smile, but he didn’t look at all convinced.

The ride to the park was rather quiet, except for the usual squeals of excitement coming from Balthazar, who sat in the edge of his seat as he looked out the window like a dog that wanted nothing but to take his head out of the window to feel the wind. Dean stole a glance over the corner of his eyes in the witch’s direction, but she merely looked straight forward the entire time, a strange poker face plastered in her face with the occasional smile making its way to her lips when Balthazar sighed impatiently.

There weren’t that many people in the park and the playground was almost deserted; most kids were still at school, which played out pretty well for them; less people that could get hurt if anything went wrong, Dean thought grimly. But no, he had faith in his son, he could use the slide without killing a bunch of people accidently… surely…

When they got out of the car, Balthazar seemed torned between a huge desire to run towards the games that were waiting for him just a couple of meters away from where Dean had parked the car, and behaving to prove to his father that he was a good, capable human boy and not a threat to other people.

Rowena took his hand and led him to the swings while Dean looked around the place, trying to spot anything weird, anything that might want to hurt his kid. Eventually, he sat on a bench and watched his son sit in the swing as the witch walked around him to stand behind him, and started softly pushing the boy’s back to help him swing. He bit his lips and moved his legs backwards and forwards as he grabbed on to the sides for dear life. It melted Dean’s heart to watch the honest, pure smile on Balthazar’s face and he wanted nothing but to see him like that every single day. His son looked at him, smiling proudly and happily, waving at his dad, and Dean grinned back at him and gave him a thumbs up before laying back against the bench.

The witch helped him up and down the slide a couple of times, then the boy went to the sandbox and kneeled to play with his car toys. The woman ran a hand through his hair and went to sit with Dean. The two of them remained in silence for a moment before Dean spoke.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he asked.

She knew what he meant, of course; she scheduled this deliberately so Balthazar would miss the merging practise with his siblings. Not that she also didn’t like seeing him happy and getting what he deserved; time to be just a child, to be happy.

“Of course I did,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“And you wanted to come with me, not with Cas,” Dean stated.

“I wanted to talk to you. I think you and I can work together.”

“And do what, exactly?”

“Let your kids be kids. You know what Mary wants… She wants to fight Lucifer,” she turned to look at Dean and she looked oddly old, her brow furrowed with worry. It wasn’t a feeling she normally let show. Dean swallowed hard at the idea of his baby boy and two older kids standing in the same room as the Devil. “Neither you and I want to let that happen, do we?”

Dean sighed. “No, we don’t.”

“Help me keep them busy, separated, so they don’t practise anymore,” she asked softly, almost pleading.

They looked at each other for a moment and Dean almost felt sorry for her. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

Rowena didn’t even look embarrassed when she nodded, when normally the last thing she would do is admit to having these kinds of feelings for anyone.

“I’ll be damned if I let Lucifer hurt him,” she said through gritted teeth.

Dean nodded in agreement, but a part of him couldn’t help feeling like a scumbag; he didn’t want to lose the kids, _period_ . Not to Lucifer, not to _anyone_ , including their real parents. He didn’t wish them bad luck, but oh God, a dark, horrible part of him that made him feel terribly ashamed hoped he would keep these children at his side forever. He loved them too much to lose them.

When Dean turned his head around, a boy and a girl and joined Balthazar in the sandbox. Dean watched carefully as his son offered the girl one of his cars and she took it, smiling shyly at him. The other boy was talking to Balthazar. Dean smiled softly, happy for his son.

“Cas… I don’t think he understands,” Dean said, his eyes never living his son. “He’s… so in love with what they are, not just _who_ they are. He’s suffered so much and he’s happy to have a place amongst his own kind again, I get that, but…”

“But you couldn’t give a damn about the angels,” the witch ended for him.

Dean sighed. “Does that make me an awful person? I know he cares about _my_ family. I just don’t _trust_ the angels, I don’t think they’re a good influence, they put too much pressure in the kids and-”

He stopped abruptly as he watched the other boy pushed Balthazar, then ran away to his mother. Balthazar felt back on the sand on his elbows and looked after the boy for a moment, before he turned around, searching for Dean, his face twisting as he was about to cry. Dean felt his heart skip a bit as he realised how close that other little girl still was, and if something happened to her- oh God-

Dean and Rowena were on their feet at once and in no time were kneeling beside the boy. Fat tears made Balthazar’s eyes look like magnifying glasses and he shook a little as he fought the urge to cry.

“Son, it’s okay, did he hurt you?” Dean asked, taking his son into his arms. He wondered how weird it’d look if he took off running with his kid; what an overreaction, the other parents would probably think, but it’d be better to be labeled as odd than to accidentally blow up the park.

Balthazar shook his head and buried his face in Dean’s chest. Rowena patted his back and shared a look of concern with Dean; should they leave?

“He called him weird,” the little girl spoke shyly, looking at them awkwardly. “He was rude.”

Dean’s face fell. He caught his son’s face in his hands and looked down at him.

“Why did he call you weird? What an-” _asshole_ , _little shit,_ he wanted to say but probably shouldn’t. He could almost hear Castiel scolding him, saying _Language, Dean!_

“H-he asked me R-rowena was my mummy,” Balthazar explained between sobs, “and I said no. I said I have two daddies. And he called me weird and he- he pushed me!”

Oh, the fucking irony. Of all the things his son could be called weird for, having two fathers was the reason why? Not because he was half-angel?

Whether it was correct or not to want to punch a six years old, Dean didn’t care. He gritted his teeth and held his kid tightly against his chest.

“He doesn’t know anything, son, don’t listen to him,” his father told him before he planted a kiss in the top of his head.

“Baltz, don’t you know what no one ordinary ever accomplished anything extraordinary?” Rowena said, running a hand through the boy’s dark hair. “It’s wonderful to be weird, love. It’s a compliment. He’s just too dull to know it.”

Dean was about to gave her a death glare, but then Balthazar looked up, eyes all hopeful and sad and devastatingly adorable. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking with a sob.

“I- I don’t mind that you have two daddies,” the little girl commented in a shy whisper. Dean looked up at her, grinning in silent gratitude, while Balthazar turned around.

“You don’t?” he asked, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand.

The girl shook her head and offered him his toy back. “I don’t. You can play with me whenever you want.”

Balthazar grinned, quickly forgetting about the other boy. “Okay,” he said, taking the car back and offering another. “This is my favorite. Do you want it?”

The girl nodded and took it, as Dean and the witch got to her feet and slowly backed to their place in the bench again.

“Well, that wasn’t a _complete_ fiasco…” Dean mumbled, watching with a vague smile as his son played with the girl, though his heart ache a little. He felt responsible, he couldn't even give his son a ‘normal’ pair of parents, who knew how much teasing and stupid discrimination his kids would have to put up with because they have two daddies, but damn he wouldn't change Castiel for anything in the world, and if only people knew what really went down in their family… Same sex parents was barely the tip of the iceberg.

Dean let Balthazar play until it was nearly time to have dinner, then they headed back to the bunker.

Rowena and him tried very hard to come up with excuses to keep mostly Balthazar busy; it wasn't too hard, all one had to do is casually throw an idea in the boys direction, get him excited and then he'd be begging to do that in the afternoon instead of exercising his powers. They went back to the park a couple of times, where Baltz joined her new friend Mayuri in the sandbox (Dean was pretty sure the boy had a little crush on her, and really who could blame him? She was literally the only girl outside his family he knew), went to the movies, did movies marathons at home and even took Balthazar to the small history museum in town. A couple of days Dean also went out to do chores with Zeppelin, always taking longer than he'd promised he would, coming back home usually around time for dinner. He only had to take one of the boys away to stop the three children from being able to merge altogether, it was an all or nothing kind of deal.

Only twice that week did Mary manage to catch her two brothers together at the same them and drag them out the bunker to join their brethren outside. The angels were more patient and understanding of their absence than Dean would have liked; he would have had preferred if they're been assholes about it, so he'd have a reason to fight them, to keep them at bay or even away, but no, they were perfectly civil and nice to the kids. It frustrated Dean, he wasn't used to that. Why did they have to be nice the one time he didn't want them to?

By the end of the second week, Mary was clearly moody and distracted from her lessons with Sam. She wanted to go to the diner and study, she really did, but she feared one of her brothers, if not both, would be unavailable by the time she got back. But Dean looked so happy lately, and Balthazar was so proud to make advances on the human world. He loved walking amongst them and feeling like one of them. He loved going to the park and he spoke nonstop about Mayuri. She felt guilty to want to take that away, but she could see right through Dean’s intentions and it angered her; how could he be so selfish? Did he not understand how important it was for them to grow strong and save their parents?

But she decided to let it go, at least for now. It was Balthazar’s birthday today anyway. It was a day for celebration, not for training and certainly not for fighting.

At least that was until the girl walked into the kitchen hand in hand with her brother to find nothing out of the ordinary in kitchen; no balloons, no cake, no nothing, just Dean laughing at Castiel’s still failed attempts to feed Zep with solids while Josie and Sam had breakfast. Balthazar’s smile faltered as he realized there was nothing special waiting for him like it normally would; their parents would prepare cake, waffles, tie balloons around his chair, sometimes high Happy Birthday signs in the wall… But there was nothing out of the ordinary that day. His feelings couldn’t compare to Mary’s though; she was completely outraged and it was as if something snapped inside her. Suddenly she couldn’t pretend anymore, she couldn’t stop herself and all the mixed feelings she’d been nesting for weeks.

“You forgot,” Mary whispered, her face falling.

“Hey, there. Good morning, you two. What are you doing standing there?” Dean asked as he lifted his sight.

“You forgot!” Mary shouted angrily.

A tense silence settled in the kitchen and everyone looked up to stare at Mary, eyes wide opened with surprise and confusion.

“Mary, it's okay,” Balthazar whispered, making himself small as he was completely taken aback by her outburst. He watched her sister’s soul burning with anger and took a cautious step back.

“What did we forget?” Dean stood up slowly, taking a few careful steps towards his daughter  

“No, it's not okay!” Mary argued, looking down at her brother for just a moment before she looked up and glanced back and forwards between both their parents. “You forgot Balthazar’s birthday!”

Dean’s face fell and he quickly glanced down at his young boy, as if looking for confirmation from the boy. He seemed a little sad, but he seemed mostly mortified to be there, hating the argument that he felt he was somehow responsible for…

“Oh, shit,” Dean mumbled, his heart sinking as a hand came up to the side of his face. “Oh, Baltz, I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry. We can-”

“ _Of course_ you forgot!” Mary interrupted her as she went out shouting, her fists clenched, her knuckles white. “You’re not our real parents!”

The words were like a slap to Dean's and Castiel's faces and both remained completely silent for a moment, too hurt to think of what to reply. 

“Mary!” Balthazar gasped, glancing at her with disapproval plastered across his face. He seemed on the verge of tears.

“What? It’s true!” she continued, looking directly at Dean with defiance in her blue eyes, even though she hated the look of pain in her dad’s face right now. It was a perfect imitation of what her real father would look like if she hurt his feelings and she absolutely hated it. _He’s not your father. He’s_ not _your father!_ she told herself to remain stubbornly angry and not give in to the guilt that was starting to crawl up her spine.

Dean swallowed hard, eyebrows knitted together as he grimaced, struggling with his feelings and her words. He was determined to hold her gaze, to listen to her, to face his own demons reflected in her eyes.

“Mary-” Cas started softly as he got from his seat.

“No! Don’t Mary-me!” she told him, pointing at him with a finger. “You don’t think I know what he’s been doing?” She quickly turned her eyes back on Dean’s direction. “You’ve been keeping us from exercising on purpose, haven’t you? You don’t want us to learn to use our powers!”

“That’s not true, Mary,” Cas said, his voice sad but calmed.

“Yes, it is! You don’t want to help out parents! You want to keep us for yourself!”

The accusation hung heavy in the air, making it thick with tension, and it was like daggers going through Dean’s heart. The way she was looking at him, full of disappointment and rage, it killed him, he hated it. Cas looked back and forth between them, as did Sam and Josie, who remained frozen in their seats, feeling terribly uncomfortable witnessing a family feud that didn’t concern them, but neither dared moved a single muscle despite how painful it was to watch the argument, see the children cry for reasons that touched too close to home. Sam could only begin to imagine what Mary's words where doing to Dean.

“You’re right, kid,” Dean finally admitted in a grave voice.

Balthazar turned his neck towards him so fast, Dean feared he could have hurt a muscle there. He was frowning, looking at him as he awaited further explanations. Surely a Winchester couldn’t mean that. Winchesters helped people, especially their own family. Their father could not admit to this degree of selfishness, he couldn’t… Could he?

“Dean…” Cas reached for his hand but Dean pulled his hand away before the angel could touch his skin.

“How dare you?” Mary stomped her foot against the ground, her fists shaking. Balthazar took another step backwards as he saw her grace sway dangerously, almost menacingly. “We have to help them! You’re not our parents, you will _never_ replace them!”

“You’re right again,” Dean said, nodding once with a heavy heart, taking a step towards her. Cas wanted to stop him as he watched the girl’s grace move threateningly, but he opted to simply follow Dean forwards. “And I’ll regret not having you forever. When I die, I know you and your brothers will be all I’ll want to see in Heaven. And I know that’s exactly what your parents feels about you.”

Mary had tears in her eyes and was chewing the insides of her cheeks with mighty force. She remembered every smile, every hug, every day together with her parents, and God, she missed them beyond measure, so mad it was almost maddening.

Dean slowly walked towards her, breaking the distance between them until he was standing in front of his kids, kneeling to be in the same eye level with them. He didn’t care how angry she was, how dangerous she could be; he’d never back away from her, would never be afraid of his own beautiful daughter, especially not when she obviously needed him so much. It didn’t matter what she said, if she hurt him, he would always love her nonetheless. Fat tears were running down Balthazar’s cheeks and he shook slightly, and it was the most heartbreaking thing Dean had ever seen.

“That’s exactly why I can’t let you go back, Mary. Cause I know I wouldn't want you to. Cause you matter too much. Do you really think your parents would want you to march there with your baby brother and fight?”

Mary looked away from him. He was right, he knew it, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“Believe me, I _know_ it hurts to lose your parents,” Dean continued. “But you have to have faith they’ll come back for you. I would. I would never stop until I made my way back to you. Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and you’re all that matters, kiddo.”

Balthazar burst into tears and threw his arms around Dean’s neck, but Mary remained in place, looking down at her feet, fighting her own tears as a confusing mix of anger and pain twisted her soul painfully.

“It’s- it’s been over two months,” she said in a whisper, closing her eyes for a moment. Tears gathered in her eyelashes and rolled down her pink cheeks. “They should be back by now. Why aren’t they back yet?”

Dean reached to put a lock of hair behind her ear, then his hand slowly ran down her arm until it grabbed her hand. “I don’t know, kid. But I can’t put you or your brothers in danger. It’s my job to protect you. And it’s okay if you’re angry with me, I understand and I can take it, sweetheart. It’s okay. Let it out if you need it. Yell if that’s what you need. I won’t love you any less for it.”

And it was the look of adoration in Dean’s eyes that ended up melting Mary; he was _just_ like her father, the exact the same, the same beautiful, loving soul.

“Dad-” she sobbed and allowed Dean to pull her into his arms. 

Dean patted Mary's back and kissed her forehead. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t trust his voice anymore. Just as he thought he might cry himself, he felt Cas' firm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his angel giving him a small smile, the man's on sadness reflected in his eyes. This was a pain they would carry together forever, the mistake of never having had their own children, and no one understood how that hurt more than Cas. For that, he was strangely thankful; at least there was someone who understood him, someone who would hold his hand through his heartache.

Josie and Sam had discretely made their way out of the kitchen when they thought they could walk away unnoticed. In silence they made their way up the stairs of the war room and out of the bunker. Josie seemed really shaken by the outburst. She knew most of the story by now, and she thought it was really sad for Dean to see the children he’d never had. How terrible it had to be to take a glimpse at the life you could have had, the people you could have and would have loved to much, had you had the guts to just go for it. She felt so sorry for him.

When Sam parked the car outside the diner, she didn’t move an inch, just sat there in silence for a couple of seconds. She was probably running late but she couldn’t get herself to give a shit.

“Josie…” Sam eventually said. “Are you okay?”

The woman look up to meet those beautiful eyes that were watching her expectantly, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. _God_ , he was _gorgeous_ and perfect inside out.

Without thinking it, she leant forward and kiss him softly, an innocent peck on the lips. But the simply touch of her lips against his awoke sparks in the surface of his skin. When she pulled away, she barely moved a couple of inches away from him.

“Regrets are scary as fuck,” her whisper was almost audible but Sam got it. “Don’t you think?”

He nodded dumbly before she kissed him once again. Fuck, she didn’t know how she had mustered the courage to kiss him, but it seemed so fucking stupid that she hadn’t until now. She wanted it so much. A part of her didn’t feel worthy of Sam but damn, _fuck it_ , apparently there were worst things that trying and failing, like regretting things for an entire lifetime. And Sam didn’t look to be against this at all, just a little taken aback.

“I’ll see you after work,” she said before walking out of the car. Sam stared after her, his mouth slightly opened.

“S-sure,” he said after a moment, though she was long gone.

He stayed there in the car for a moment, watching Josie get to work inside the diner. He brought a hand to his lips and huffed a laugh. A part of him felt a little guilty as a wave of happiness and excitement washed over him. Sam was just about to turn the engine on when suddenly the door flew open and he was being yanked out of his seat. He was ready to fight back and throw punches when he found himself face to face with his brother.

“Dean, what the hell-”

“Sam, thank God! Are my children with you?” his brother asked, eyes wild. The expression on his face was that of a crazy man.

“W-what?”

Sam pushed his brother away with annoyance, but Dean grabbed him again by the front of his shirt.

“Please! Are they with you!?” he asked again.

“What are you talking about? They were-”

Sam’s face suddenly fell and he did a double take on Dean. He was wearing different clothes than he had this morning.

“Holy s- you’re not- you’re from another universe, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Dean answered, a little smile coming to his lips; if Sam knew that, he had to know about his children too, they must have explained, maybe they were even expecting him. “You’ve seen my children, right? Please tell me you’ve found my children! I went to Bobby’s and- and-”

“Y-yes,” Sam replied, swallowing hard. Dean sighed with relief, a hand coming to rest on his chest, the other on his knee.

“Oh, thank God. Are they okay? Are they in the bunker?”

“Yes, yes, Dean, they’re fine, they’re with y- with my brother, and Cas. Cas- where’s _your_ Cas? Why isn’t he here?”

Dean’s face twisted in pain.

“Sam, Lucifer has him. He’s coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (turmblr users and one made by me): supernaturalfreewill ; conduitstr ; inacatastrophicmind ; unicorncastiell ; alionaw ; frozen-delight ; justjensenanddean ; dunderklumpen ; castieledits


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I didn't die, I got a (temporal) job (is it not the same at some level though?.....)  
> So, yeah, AGAIN, sorry for the low flow of chapters. I was supposed to catch up with some writing on the weekend but I had a terrible Christmas and I was so upset, I just couldn't sit down to write.  
> Enjoy this one, the story will probably be over in 3 chapters or so.  
> Thank you for your patience guys <3  
> No gifs in this one cause it takes time and I just don't want to keep you waiting anymore.

“Dean,” Cas said in that deep voice, calling his name so beautifully and full of feeling. His name had always seemed so dull, so irrelevant, unimportant, until he met the angel. “Talk to me. Why didn’t you say anything before? We could have discussed their training, if you didn’t agree with it. I thought you said we had to be more honest with each other.”

Dean looked up at those blue eyes that were full of affection, and searched for Cas’ hand. They were alone in the kitchen, except for the baby that was still propped up in one of the angel’s arms, their older kids had gone to the bathroom to wash their faces and then to their bedrooms to change clothes. After they had settled a little when their argument had come to an end, Dean had proposed that they all had breakfast somewhere nice in town before going to the movies. Balthazar could never say no to food, his sweet-tooth instincts kicking in and dissolving slightly the negative, sorrowful feelings the argument had caused in him. And Mary… Mary simply couldn’t say no to his little brother, he wanted nothing more than to see him happy.

“I know, I know, but-” the man sighed, running his fingers through his short hair, taking a step closer to the angel unconsciously as if he was drawn to him like magnets. “You were so proud of them and- you just- you looked so _happy_ , Cas. I saw how happy you were to be part of- well, of your _family_ , I guess, to be with the rest of the angels again. I didn’t want to be a dick about it, I know you miss them, you miss Heaven and all. You’ve given up so much for us. For me.”

“And it was the right thing to do, Dean, always. I don’t regret any of it. You should know by now there’s nothing that matters to me more than you do. Your opinion matters to me, your feelings too, so, please, stop hiding them from me.”

The oldest Winchester looked down at the baby between them for a moment, then up at his favorite pair of blue eyes. The look of adoration on the angel’s eyes was a sight Dean would never get tired of.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he whispered before he leant in to give Cas a simply but sweet peck in the lips. By now, they had kissed so many times but it never got old, it never stopped feeling special and even the simplest of kisses still made the human’s breath hitch.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked. He looked defeated himself, somehow tired even though he didn’t need rest, and Dean saw own anguish reflected back at him in Castiel’s eyes. Mary’s words had done a number on him, even though they had been mostly directed at the man.

Dean merely looked away and pressed his lips together into a thin line. _Of course_ he wasn’t okay. The only thing he’d hater more than the girl’s words was that they were _entirely true_ and that he still regretted nothing. He wouldn’t change a thing, even if it made him a terrible person. If the roles were inversed, if he was the one sending his children away, he knew he would want his other version of himself to do the same, to keep his kids safe and blissfully happy, and to raise them as his own, to love them as much as he did. His own death didn’t scare him half as much as the prospect of their kids getting hurt. He’d be selfish, he’d keep them and treasure them through thick and thing, even if they hated him for it, because that’s what being a parent was like; he’d do what he thought was best for them and he’d take their angel and love them through it nonetheless. After all, she was just a hurting child mourning the loss of her parents, and there was no one better than Dean to know the types of scars that type of pain could bring.

“Me neither,” Cas said eventually, after a brief silence. “But we will be.”

“Will we, though?” Dean asked bitterly, and it wasn’t really a question but the angel took it literal, as he usually did when he failed to recognize rhetorical questions.

“Yes,” he answered, his face serious. “I will make you happy. You’ll see.”

Cas gave him a small encouraging smile and Dean couldn’t help but to return it; he looked so sweetly determined and hopeful, so beautiful and pure.

“Damn, I love you,” Dean mumbled shyly before he was kissing him again. He felt like home there, with his lips pressed against Castiel’s, their son in the other man’s arm between them. His soft, incoherent babbles were maybe Dean’s favorite background music.

A forced cough caused them to pull away from the kiss and Dean looked over his shoulder to see his older children looking at them from the doorframe. Balthazar was smiling with pleasure at the two of them, smirking a little even, while Mary fidgeted with the edge of her sleeves. After a moment of silence, the boy elbowed her sister’s ribs and nodded towards their parents. Mary rolled her eyes at him and sighed, but although she wanted to look cool and collected, a blush in her cheeks betrayed her.

“I- I just-” Mary scratched the back of her neck in a way that was all Dean and Cas knew right away what she was trying to say; she wanted to apologize.

The angel crossed the distance between them in a blink of an eye and put an arm around her shoulders as he lowered his head to kiss the top of her head.

“It’s alright, Mary,” he whispered in a gently, reassuring tone. The girl leant into the touched, closing her eyes for a moment as she smiled a little. But the subtle look of guilt in her eyes remained.

“We get it, kid, really,” Dean said and gave her his most honest smile, though inside he was still hurting. These kids would be the death of him. For how long he could keep them, he didn’t know. Forever, if he was lucky and awfully selfish. But even if their real parents didn’t return to get them, something told him one day at least Mary would find her way back to her original universe; it was a very Winchester thing to do, trying to save your family even when all odds were against you, even though you knew your loved ones didn’t want you to go back for them, even if they had asked you to let go, move on, live without them. Fuck, if it were him, Dean would do the same thing for his parents. God knew he’d tried.

Mary opened her mouth to say something to else, to actually apologised, but she was interrupted.

“Dean!”

Sam’s urgent call echoed through the hallways of the bunker, making Dean look up with sudden concern.

 _Now what?_ he thought. What the hell could have happened on the way back and forth to the diner?

The family hurried to the war room and arrived just in time to see the two men that had just arrived. Dean’s heart skipped a bit for the wrong reason when he saw the perfect replica of himself running down the spiral staircase of the war room, followed by his brother. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks for a moment as the new Dean locked eyes with his children, his breath hitching for a moment as if he couldn’t believe his eyes before a small, tired grin ventured into his slips.

“Dad!” Mary cried and ran towards her father, who felt on his knees on the floor and opened his arms for her. Balthazar was behind his sister just a second later.

“Oh, God, my angels! You’re okay, thank God!” he said and let out a hysterical chuckle, pulling his kids impossibly closer in an almost death grip. He never wanted to let go of them again. The kids had thrown their arms around his neck and were leaning against him as he showered them with kisses.

Cas had moved his hand to grab Dean’s as they both watch the kids and their original father almost burst out in tears of joy as they held each other, while the two of them felt an inexplicable grief washing over them, originating in their chests and running all over their bodies. Dean was grateful for the angel’s touched, he felt it grounded him to the real world when he felt his knees becoming weak and his mind almost going insane misery. Both of them wanted to be happy for the children, but right there and then, their feelings were overwhelming and they were unable to get a grip.

“Daddy, what took you so long?” Baltz asked, shooting his father a reproving look. His father tried to keep a straight face, but his mouth was shut in a tight line that was way too forced.

“I- It’s a long story kid, we-”

“Where’s papa?” Mary asked, looking over his shoulder, the up the stairs as if expecting his other father to walk in at any moment. But then she quickly searched for his grace and when she realised she couldn’t feel it, she guesses he wasn’t in this universe. “Why isn’t he here?”

Dean recognised the look in his replica’s face right away; something was wrong. Probably _very_ wrong. He quickly composed his expression to one that was more neutral and he simply smiled at his daughter, but Dean had caught his expression just fine and damn, worry settled low in his belly, adding to the mix of awful feelings that were already overwhelming him. Was his Cas in danger? Was he perhaps _dead_? When the thought crossed his mind, he squeezed his angel’s hand as if to make sure that he was still there, safe and sound, by his side, and he felt a rush of pity for the other man. He didn’t even want to begin to think what it'd be like to lose Cas.

“He wasn't able to come, sweetheart, I'm sorry,” their father replied lazily, making quick work of avoiding meeting her gaze. Instead, he looked up and when his eyes found the angel that was a living copy of his own, he swallowed hard and again, Dean saw something dark flash behind the man’s eyes. Then his eyes settle on the baby in his arms, who was looking back at him with hearts in his eyes. “Zep, my boy, my sweet baby boy!”

The man got to his feet, his children following him closely like chicks follow their mama duck, and Cas watched as the man stretched his arms towards his son, who copied the movement. He had to let go, Cas knew that, but he found himself moving very slowly as he passed the child into this other Dean’s arms. A part of him very seriously believed that may be the last time he’d have the pleasure of holding Zeppelin and it was causing of sorts of sorrowful feelings he wasn't quite used to, not with this intensity. It was bittersweet to watch the man hold his baby to his chest, choking on a sob once as he kissed his son.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he whispered, the ran his fingers through Balthazar's hair as the boy hugged his waist, “all of you.”

 _Language_ , Cas wanted to say but he found his mouth dry and himself unable to say a word.

Finally, the Dean in front of them looked up at them, acknowledging them both, looking down at their hands as they held each other for a moment and there was strong, unmistakable longing in his eyes. Dean was more and more sure with each second that passed that this was a somewhat grieving man, and not one that carried good news. Something was wrong.

“Thank you so much for caring for my children,” the father of the kids said. “You've no idea- I- I owe you everything.”

There was a moment of silence. Sam stood behind watching them interact, watching his brother struggle to keep a straight face and his own heart was breaking just watching how this was killing Dean on the spot, and also Cas, who hadn't looked so petrified and out of it in a long time. All the while, the children looked radiant ans it was surely destroying Dean in all sorts of new ways. What were they going to say, to think when this new Dean gave them the _real_ bad news?

“It-” Dean started, his voice barely audible, then cleared his throat and continued, “it was our pleasure.”

“It took us a while to find them,” Baltz told his dad, looking up at him like he was dying to have his dad’s attention back, “we had to travel to find them. We walked a lot, I was so tired. And then I- I saved a man, daddy! And I- I learned how to fly without puking! And we fought angels and demons and’”

“You did _what_?” the other Dean’s eyes widened in horror. He turned around to his eldest as if awaiting an explanation.

Mary shrunk a little. “Dad, I- I’m sorry- Grandpa Bobby wasn't there and I-”

“I know, I saw,” he cut in, looking up at this universe’s version of himself to ask, “what the hell happened to Bobby’s house?”

Everyone but Balthazar quickly gave him a look that said he shouldn't have asked that.

“He moved,” Sam lied quickly.

“So you walked all the way to Lebanon?” Dean said looking down at his daughter. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby, I'm _so_ sorry. You've nothing to apologize for, kid, you did great, you kept your brothers safe.”

Mary smiled, tears in her eyes. Oh, how she'd missed him, his unwavering gentleness and his constant affection, the way hr never got angry, he never reproached anything, the way he was always sweet and thankful and proud of her.

“I did my best,” she whispered quietly.

“You did more than great,” this universe's Dean said, a hand shyly coming to rest in his shoulder. He felt strange now, as if he needed permission to be physically affectionate with her now that her real father was present. “She's done all sort of awesome stuff since we found them.”

Mary turned around to grin up at him and Dean all but melted in that blue ocean that were her eyes. The terrible thought that maybe that was the last time she would ever smile at him crossed his mind, nearly causing him to break down and cry on the spot.

“Thank you, dad,” she replied, the nickname doing all sorts of things to Dean’s heart. Her real father didn't seem bothered at all that she'd called him that, he was too full of gratitude and worry to even begin to care about the weirdness of the situation.

They all fell silent for a moment and suddenly it dawned in Mary that this was it, she got her wish, they were going back home… And leaving this family she had here. All of a sudden, Dean’s hand on her shoulder felt heavier and she was very aware of the warmth that was radiating from it. She looked at his soul, watched it curl into a ball on itself, practically shaking with fear and pain. She knew it wasn't her fault and that neither Castiel or Dean would blame her for leaving, but she felt terribly guilty for the joy that was the sight of her real dad, for wanting so badly to return home, and she realized how much she would miss these new side of the family. Because _of course_ they were family; even though she'd yelled at them (more than once) that they weren't their real parents, those were just bitter words coming out of a child in pain. Family didn't end in blood and they would forever hold a dear place in her heart.

“Are- are we leaving now?” she asked, her voice shaking a little. She'd wanted so much to return, had focused so much in the bright side, she'd never stopped and think what would _actually_ be like to leave, to say goodbye, who knew for how long. Maybe forever

Her dad hesitated as he thought and chose his words carefully. He patted Balthazar’s back and smiled down at him.

“Actually,” he said, “I thought we could spend the day here. It's my special boy’s birthday, we've gotta celebrate, right?”

Balthazar grinned from ear to ear. “You remembered!”

“Of course I did, how could I forget one of the best days of my life?”

Dean clenched his jaw and grabbed Castiel’s hand so tightly, it would have hurt had Cas been human. _Of course_ he remembered, he was their _father_ , their _real father_. He would have never forgotten his _real_ kids’ birthdays either. But these weren't his and they would never be, they didn't belong to him.

“We're going to celebrate without papa?” Mary asked, frowning.

“Well- hmm- we've got two extra parents right here to spare, don't we?” he gestured towards his copy and the angel, and shot a pleading look their way. _Help me distract them,_ it begged silently.

“Y-yeah,” Dean said dumbly. “We, huh, we were gonna go to a diner and to-to the movies.”

“We were waiting for Sam to get back with the car,” Cas said, his voice almost a whisper.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good, right, son?”

“Can I pick the movie?” the boy asked. He was radiant, oblivious to anything suspicious in his dad’s behavior or expressions, too busy with his own joy to notice anything else.

“Of course, the birthday boy always picks the movie.”

His replica looked up at Dean expectantly and it took the man a couple of minutes to understand what he wanted; he was waiting for him to lead the way. Dean hesitated for a moment, standing frozen in place as he looked dumbly back at himself. They were really doing it, going out to eat and watch a movie like nothing had happened, like Dean and Cas weren't dying inside?

Sam cleared his throat and Dean was grateful to have the attention shifting from himself to his brother, who moved the keys in his finger and nodded towards the exit. The two children started following their dad and Sam up the spiral staircase, but Cas and Dean stayed glued to their spots. Mary turned around to look at them for a moment before she went back to them, grabbing one of their hands as she stood between them.

“Come on, let's go,” she mumbled. She didn't sound excited at all and they could only guess the child wasn't as easily fooled as Balthazar was. She too knew something was off, something wasn't write. Dean and Cas were inseparable. Why would her dad return without him by his side?

Dean took the keys from Sam and Cas joined him in the front of car. The exchanged a sad look while the other universe’s Dean and Sam got in the backseat with the children. Cas felt incomplete without the comfortable weight and warmth of his baby boy in his arms.

Breakfast was a weird and rather uncomfortable business. Everyone tried really hard to grin and pretend their worlds weren't on fire for Balthazar’s sake and were grateful the kid was too busy telling his dad all about their trip so he never once stopped and stared at either men’s souls; what he would have seen there wouldn't have been pretty. His father seemed more aggravated by the minute as his son started retelling all the problems they had had and suddenly the boy gasped when he realized they hadn't invited the witch to join them.

“You live with a witch?” his dad asked, then snapped his neck to the side to glare at Dean and Cas with grave accusation in his eyes.

“Dad, it's okay,” Mary assured him quickly. “She's- she's fine. Really. She's- kind of his protector,” the girl simply shrugged. She had come to terms with the witch’s presence.

“I don't need a protector!” Baltz argued. “Not now that we do the thingy together.”

“The thingy?” his dad repeated with confusion.

“They merge their souls and graces,” Cas explained, talking for the first time in a long time. “They've learned to move as one extremely powerful being, when they're touching.”

Baltz went on trying to explain how that worked and after the birthday boy had had enough desserts to keep him full for the rest of the day, they silently made their way to the small local cinema. There weren’t many movies to choose from but he didn't care, he was having a great time strolling through the town with his loved ones. The children sat on either side of their dad, then Cas sat next to Mary with Dean in his other side, the man clutching his hand like his life depended on it, while Sam sat in the far corner by his brother’s side. The girl studied carefully her papa’s hard poker face, then slowly went to grab his hand. He nearly jumped at the touch, then turned his hand around to interlock their fingers as he looked down at her. He looked sad, he wasn’t good at hiding it, but Mary said nothing, just turned her head around and pretended to pay attention on the movie, just like most of them did.

When they got back to the bunker, the new Dean put Mary aside for a moment as Baltz ran to look for Rowena to tell her all about his day.

“Honey, could you please take your brother to your room and keep him there for a while? I- I need to talk to the adults.”

Mary sighed; she’d seen that coming. “Something’s up.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “Will you tell me what, if I keep him busy?”

“Eventually…”

“Okay, then…”

Dragging her feet, shoulder hunching down a little in defeat, Mary went to seek for her brother and asked him to play with her in their room while the adults gathered in the kitchen. The man sat across the table from where Dean and Cas sat next to each other, and he occasionally stole glances at the angel, but then quickly looked away, like the mere sight of the messy dark hair and blue eyes pained him.

“It’s time you tell them why you’re really here,” Sam spoke in a grim tone as he leaned against the counter. Rowena stood close to him, eyeing this new Dean with curiosity and a little caution; he didn’t know her, and hunters weren’t fans of witches, so she’d rather stay out of his arms’ lengths.”

“I-” the man stole another look in Cas’ direction before he turned to Dean, “Lucifer- he has my Cas.”

Dean’s mouth dropped and his grip around Castiel’s hand tightened. For a moment he forgot about his own pain, his own preoccupations, and he looked at the reflection of himself sink in a ball of misery as he avoided with all his might to look at the angel. Instead, his eyes were fixed in their hands. Was he jealous? Did he wish that was him holding Castiel’s hand? Dean didn’t even want to begin to imagine what he must be feeling.

“Is he-” he wanted to say ‘dead’, but at the same time he so _didn’t_.

“Dead?” the other finished for him bitterly, but then shook his head. “No, he’s not but-” _but I bet Lucifer isn’t exactly being a lovely host with him_ , he thought, but instead said, “but he will be, once he gets what he wants.”

“And what is that?” Castiel asked.

“My babies, of course.”

“But they’re safe-”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted him, “Lucifer can track them down with their father’s grace. They’re connected through it.”

“He didn’t know in what universe to look for them,” Dean’s copy explained, “but now he has Cas, it’s a matter of time until he finds them.”

A dense silence settled between them again as the information sunk in.

“So what does that mean?” Rowena asked as she unfolded her arms and took a few steps towards the table. “Why are you here? If Lucifer can find them- why have you come?”

Everyone was looking at the new Dean expectantly, except for Sam, who looked down at his feet. He had already guessed the answer. There wasn’t really much they could do. Lucifer would find the kids sooner than later.

“I- I thought- I don’t-”

He opened his mouth to speak then closed it, repeating the process several times until he rested his head on his hands. The way his shoulders were shacking slightly made everyone’s heart sink.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “He’s coming. And I don’t know what to do. I can’t hide them anymore. And I can’t protect them, can’t do shit against the Devil, all of Heaven’s angels are nearly gone, and my brother is back there buying me some time and I don’t have a _fucking_ clue of how to save my family, my son, my daughter, my baby-”

He stopped abruptly and covered his face with his hands.

Rowena was the first to speak. She sounded angry.

“So, what? You’ve come to say goodbye? Are you giving up?”

The man looked up, not caring that the skin around his eyes was wet with tears he’d been ashamed to show before, and frowned with annoyance.

“I’m not giving up-”

“Well, it sounds like you are!”

“I’m not! I’m just- I don’t know-”

“What to do, I know, we heard you. But I’ll be freaking damned if I let Lucifer touch a single lock of that boy’s hair. Now, there’s got to be something we can do to hide them. What if we just remove their graces, somehow? Then they would be just human, and he wouldn’t be able to find them.”

“You want to take away their grace?” Castiel asked, turning around to glare at the witch like she had just insulted him. “Their very essence, what makes them special?”

“I don’t know about you, Cas, but I’d rather have a human Balthazar than a dead one,” she said, glaring back at him with no remorse.

“She’s right,” Dean said.

“But that won’t work,” his copy said. “You can’t rip their grace away, it would kill them. They’re not angel _or_ human, they’re both. Sometimes their graces and their souls can move independently from each other, but if you take one away, the other one dies too.”

“If we can’t hide them, then we’ll just have to get rid of Lucifer.”

The new Dean narrowed his eyes at her and said in a mocking tone, “oh, jeez, thanks for the advice, I had not thought of that before! I’ve had the entire army of Heaven helping me and we’re losing.”

“Well, darling, you don’t have _me_ back there.”

“And you can stop the Devil?”

“I can try. I will try. We’ll think of something.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, this is the last one (plus epilogue).  
> Thank you for sticking around until the end, I hope you enjoyed the story!  
> I'll be back for more stories and one-shots, I hope you like those.  
> Wish you all a happy new year, guys, and share your stories in the comments if you're writing something too.

Sam waited in the parking lot, leaning against the Impala, looking grimly down at his feet, hands buried inside his pockets, while Josie walked out of the diner, folding her apron carefully as she walked towards him. She smiled as soon as her eyes found the tall man, but as she came closer and took on the serious expression on his face, her pace slowed down and in the end she was almost dragging her feet unwillingly in his direction, fearing the moment when she’d be standing in front of him.

 _Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh shit,_ she thought as her heart begun to race. _I shouldn’t have kissed him. Oh, shit. But I thought- it felt nice, I thought he- did I misread the signs? Oh, shit…_

The woman swallowed hard and fidgeted with the piece of fabric in her hands to keep them busy as she came to a stop and looked up to Sam’s face. He looked more worried than she’d ever witness before, lost in thought, lines forming in his forehead as he frowned.

“Sam…?”

Her voice was low and pathetic, cautious and fearful, she hated how upset she sounded but she wasn’t good at hiding her feelings. It took him a moment to look up, several thoughts running through Sam’s head. He’d given it a lot of thought as to what he should say during his lonely drive to the diner that evening. He hadn’t had much time before, he’d spent the entire day doing research with his family in the bunker, trying to find some kind of spell or weapon that could help them defeat the Devil before he arrived. But then in the car he was alone with his thoughts, and all he could think of for a moment was Josie, and how much she had come to mean to him in such a short period of time. And again, here he was, putting those he loved in danger. As long as she was with them, she’d be in danger. Lucifer could come and destroy them, but perhaps he would retreat to his original universe once he got what he wanted from this one, maybe people here would be safe, Josie would be safe. Maybe she still had a chance to go on and live a normal life.

“Josie, I-”

What he wanted to say, he wasn’t sure. His brain told him to hurt her, lie to her, push her away, but he was frozen in place, his mouth dry and unwilling to insult the woman in any way.

She examined his face a little more carefully and for a moment put her own feelings aside, tucked her fears and her insecurities in the back of her mind to _really_ pay attention to him. He looked so afflicted, it couldn’t just be because of the kiss.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” she asked. A had tentatively reached forward, slowly, and touched his arm softly.

Sam couldn’t response. How could he possibly explain she was in danger _against_ just by being associated with him?

He gritted his teeth tightly and ran a hand through his hair. It was dark, but she could swear she saw tears making his eyes sparkly in the dim light of the parking lot. She didn’t know what to say or how to make him talk to her, so instead she sighed and after a moment, put her arms around his waist, under his jacket, and laid her head against his chest. Josie could hear his heart racing. She waited patiently until he was finally returning the hug.

“Josie-” Sam started. The woman didn’t like his tone.

“Sam,” she interrupted him, looking up at him while he looked down at her. He opened his mouth to speak but before the man could say a word, she pressed her lips against his. She didn’t know what had come to her, but damn, his sad puppy face was shortcutting the wires in her brain. She hated that look in his face.

This time there was no real hurry, no need for any of them to move, so they didn’t. Sam kissed her back with urgency, holding her tightly against him, until they both needed to stop and catch their breaths.

“Well, at least now I know you’re not upset about me kissing you,” Josie joked tentatively.

“Is that what you were thinking?” Sam asked as a hand came up to cup the woman’s cheek.

She shrugged, her walls falling a little, showing him how insecure she could be at times. He was impossibly handsome, insanely kind… How could she end up with someone like that? _And_ her brother in law would be a freaking _angel of the Lord._

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” he assured her, “but-”

“No, not ‘but’s,” she said, standing in the tip of her toes to lean her forehead against yours. “I don’t know what happened while I was at work but, but- but we’ll figure it out. You said you and your brother always figure it out.”

“It’s different this time.”

“I don’t care, Sam. Just- do your best to figure it out and I- I’ll bake pies and keep your spirits up and take care of the kids, and you just- you just figure it out, okay?”

“But, Josie-”

“I said no ‘but’s, Winchester,” she repeated, looking back at him all fierce and stubbornly. “Now, I have to make pies for tomorrow. So, let’s go home.”

Josie pulled away and walked around the car to stand next to the passenger’s door, then looked at Sam expectantly. Sam sighed but after a moment accepted his defeat; he just couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring himself to tell her to go away, leave him, because for once in his life he _really_ wanted this person to stay, to be tough enough to remain at his side like Castiel remained by Dean’s side all these years. It was a selfish desire, but he couldn’t deny the way he was starting to feel towards the young woman.

They were both quiet most of the drive home, and though tension still fumed from Sam, it wasn’t an awkward silence. Josie’s hand laid on top of Sam’s, which rested over the gearshift. Every now and then, the woman would move her thumb back and forwards over his skin in a small but tender sign of affection.

Sam was so lost in his own thoughts, he’d completely forgotten to tell Josie about the arrival of the new Dean. When the woman was walking towards the kitchen, she did a double take in the library’s direction, stopping dead in her tracks as she spotted two Dean Winchesters going through a pile of books.

“What the hell-”

“Keep walking,” Sam said, gently pushing her forwards towards the kitchen, “this isn’t even the weirdest we’ve seen.”

Josie made her pies and dinner for everyone, and, at some point, got stuck babysitting the kids while she did all that, so she quickly put them to work. She still didn’t know what was going on, why there were two Deans or what were they all searching for so desperately with their noses buried in books in the library, but she didn’t ask, just continued cooking and trying to keep the kids busy and distracted. It wasn’t easy and by the time she finished, she was covered in flour and a little sweaty, her feet ached and she couldn’t wait to have a shower and change into her pajamas.

They realised there were too many people and couldn’t fit in the kitchen anymore, so they moved dinner to the war room, where dinner proceeded rather quietly. Baltz sat next to his father, while Mary opted to sit between Cas and Dean. She kept looking up at them, back and forwards between the two of them, studying their sad faces as if she was afraid she’d forget what they looked like if she looked away for too long, even though they looked exactly like her real parents. Josie kept shooting the new Dean curious glances and was dying to ask Sam what the hell was going on, but also feared she wouldn’t like the answer, judging by how upset he’d been when the man had picked her up from work.

“So,” Josie started, clearing her throat, “hmm, I made pie. We could- we could have some for dessert. It’s- Balthazar said it's his birthday, so… Yeah…”

Her cheeks went pink when she realised everyone was staring at her. She felt terribly out of place, offering something so silly while everyone was quiet and obviously trying to pretend everything was okay, but she wanted to help somehow and had no idea how to. Food always seemed to make people feel better, but this definitely was one of those situations where she couldn’t help.

“Pie would be great,” Dean forced a smile in the woman’s direction, who shifted in her seat awkwardly, smiling back at him. “Thanks, Josie.”

Even Balthazar realised something was wrong with everyone when the amazing pie barely bring a smile to his father’s face, but he merely looked at his dad for a moment as he wondered what was wrong. He took a look at his soul instead of asking and sink in his chair with worry at the sight of his father’s soul’s state; it looked small and dark, worried and sad.

“Dad…” he patted his father’s arm gently, his tone low and less cheerful than before, “will you read me a story before bed?”

“I can’t, son, I’ve got to help the other with research-”

“Go ahead and read the boy a story, it’s his birthday,” Rowena interrupted him, then ran a hand through Balthazar’s dark hear with a gentleness that was uncharacteristic on her. “Spend some time with your family.”

The exchanged a look for a moment, then the other universe’s Dean nodded and carried Zeppelin out of the room, closely followed by his other son. Mary, in the other hand, stayed seated between his universe’s Dean and Castiel. She wanted to ask them what was going on, but she doubted they’d tell her. Now her real father was there with them, they’d probably see him as the real authority who had the only say in the making of decision in matters that concerned her brothers and herself.

“Can I help with anything, dad?” she asked Dean softly. The man looked down at her, moved by the nickname; how sweet it was of her to still call him that.

“No, sweetheart, we’re just- we need to do some research,” he said and then patted her back twice before he stood up and dragged himself back to the library, closely followed by Rowena and Sam.

Josie stared after Sam, frowning a little. She was worried and also felt sorry for them, not to mention helpless and a little useless. She didn’t want to get in their way though, so she simply excused herself and left to take a shower.

“Papa, do you want to read me a story?” Mary asked shyly.

Cas looked taken aback, and frowned slightly. She’d never asked for a bedtime story before, he’d figured she felt too old for that now.

“Just… You can tell me about the ancient Egyptians and the pyramids. I’ve always liked that part of history.”

“… Alright.”

As soon as Castiel got to his feet, Mary grabbed his hand and they walked back to her room silently. Mary kicked her shoes off and laid over the covers, making room for Cas to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. He talked and talked, and Mary listened and watched him, her hand never leaving his, and she wondered if he also feared this would be the last time they’d ever do this. She was emotionally drained and ended up falling asleep before she got a chance to talk to her father. The angel remained by her side a little longer, watching the girl sleep, before he decided it was time to join the others again.

Back in the library, even a couple of angels had joined them and were going through ancient books in the library. It was by far the strangest gathering ever witnessed in the bunker, but no one had time to stop and think about it as they read furiously page after page, trying to find _something_ that could weakened the archangel in the slightest if not kill him.

It was around 2 am when Rowena suddenly gasped and smacked herself in the forehead before she stood up and ran to her room, only to appear back in the library seconds later with a book that look like it could break just by looking at it because how old it seemed to be. It seemed to be older than Rowena herself, the leather in the covers was old and worn, and some pages threatened to get ripped if they were treated with anything less than utter gentleness. She opened the book and turned the pages quickly, her eyes flying through the words written in ancient languages most of them couldn’t read. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were looking at the redhaired woman expectantly. Finally, she got to the page she wanted and let out a small content sigh, though the darkness around her eyes didn’t reflect the same victory.

“I think I’ve got it,” she whispered.

“A way to kill Lucifer?” Castiel asked as he looked over her shoulder.

“No, but we can weaken him enough to kill him afterwards,” she declared. “It’s a very old spell, I’d forgotten about it. I’ve never had any use for it because it requires three willing sacrifices… Sacrifices made for _love_ … You see how I could never use it before Balthazar…”

“Sacrifices?” Dean asked. “What kind of sacrifices?”

She gave him a knowing look. He knew the answer already, she was sure.

“The spell will take away any evil’s powers for a certain amount of time… in exchange for three lives.”

There was a moment of silence. Dean and Castiel exchanged a look, and the man simply nodded once in agreement.

“Dean, _no_ ,” Sam step forwards, placing himself between the angel and his brother.

“Sam… You can’t stop me. You can’t,” Dean argued. He sounded more tired than worried or sorry about his own death. “Maybe it is my destiny, you know? Maybe this is why I never had children… So I could save his,” he gestured towards his double without even looking in his direction.

“You don’t have to do it,” the children’s real father said, “I can-”

“No, you can’t,” Dean interrupted him. “You’re their father. Their _real_ father. You’re irreplaceable. They might already lose one of their parents… They need you. Alive.”

The other universe’s Dean swallowed hard but nodded; he hated thinking Cas may be dead, or would die soon, and didn’t mind dying if he could protect his children… But if there was a way he could avoid leaving his kids orphans, and it was offered to him like that, so easily… There was nothing he wanted more than to watch his children be safe and grow old.

“I’ll do it too,” Nithael, the angel Balthazar had saved, said as he too took a step forwards. “That boy saved me. I owe him.”

“You don’t love him enough, it won’t work,” Rowena shook her head and sighed. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the third sacrifice.”

“Thank you,” Balthazar’s father said, taking the witch’s hand in his own.

“Dean, _please_ -” Sam tried to fight and reached for Dean’s wrist but his brother pulled away.

“Sammy, you’ll cast the spell,” Dean merely went on like his brother wasn’t begging at all. “The angels will fight off Lucifer while you cast the spell. When it’s done, you and me- I mean, you and Dean,” he gestured again at his copy, “can take Lucifer. Right, Rowena?”

“He’ll be as human as the two of you,” she agreed with a nod.

“Then you’ll shoot him dead, once and for all,” Dean said through gritted teeth to his double, "it's a plan then, okay?"

Nobody answered, but they all silently and unwillingly agreed. Dean only had eyes for his brother for a moment. There were tears in Sam's face, Dean knew exactly what this had to be doing to him, but he would not change his mind. Sam would go on, he had before he could do it again, and this time he'd have Josie with him to show him the way, help him get the life he always wanted...

“Excuse me, I need a word with Cas in private,” Dean mumbled, then  nearly dragged the angel out of the room.

The moment Dean closed the bedroom door behind them, he pushed the angel towards the bed and crawled on top of him in all fours, lowering himself to kiss him fiercely. Cas was stunned and wanted to ask him what the hell was happening, but was unable to help the choked moan that escaped his lips when Dean made his way to the angel’s neck, kissing him in ways that made his body react right away, as the man also unbuckled his belt like a pro and then unbuttoned his slacks.

“Dean, what-”

“It’s now or never, Cas,” Dean mumbled against the man’s neck as his hands came up to unbutton his shirt.

“We don’t have to,” Castiel told him, but he remained still. He couldn’t push Dean away, he loved the way the tip of the man’s fingers brushed against his skin as he removed his shirt too much to stop him, but he didn’t want this, not really, not if Dean didn’t too. “Dean, it’s okay, we don’t have to.”

“But I want to, Cas,” Dean insisted, stopping for a moment as he hovered over the angel’s body. His slacks were in the process of getting discarded and his shirt was opened all the way, revealing the angel’s lean but toned stomach and chest. The way he was looking down at Cas was all urgent and adoring. “I wanna make as many memories as possible with you. I want to give you everything,” Dan proceeded to toss aside the angel’s tie. “I want you. And I know you want me. You promised I’d like it, so- so- so, just take me, Cas. Any which way you want. I’m yours, Cas. I’m all yours.”

Cas only hesitated for a moment. He hated and loved everything Dean had just said; it was all he’d ever wanted, but not like this, not when it felt like a goodbye, like the end of all things that mattered. But they had no time, no other choice, it was right there and then or never, Dean was right.

The angel rolled Dean over on the bed, positioning himself on top of the man and kissing him back with the same urgent need with which Dean had initiated the previous kisses. Castiel snapped his fingers once and their clothes were gone instantly. Dean gasped in surprise but then laid his head back in the pillow and closed his eyes, moaning softly under his breath, when he felt the full length of Castiel’s flesh against his own growing erection.

Dean rolled his hips once, twice, looking for the friction he was in desperate need of. Castiel mimicked his movements as best he could as he pressed his body against the man’s. He loved the warmth that came from Dean’s touch, the rough feelings of his callous fingers on his biceps, on his back, the tender kisses and the arousal that came from it all. He felt like home surrounded in Dean’s naked skin and wished he could stay there forever, but if they were going to do this just once, he was going to give Dean the pleasure the man didn’t know he even wanted. He positioned himself between Dean’s legs and pushed his legs further opened with his knees.

When the angel was all but ready to push into Dean, the man’s grip on his biceps tightened to stop him. “Cas, hold on, man, we need- we need l-lube and-”

“No, we don’t,” Cas assured him, kissing his lips once gently, reassuringly.

“It doesn’t work like that, trust-”

“No, _you_ trust _me_ , Dean,” Cas said, nudging his nose with his own lovingly. “I’m no man, I’m an angel. I won’t hurt you, I promise. Just trust me, let go… I promised you were going to like it, didn’t I?”

 _Of course_ Dean remembered what Cas had said; it wasn’t possible for him to forget the very arousing words Castiel had spoken not long ago, that carried promises of pleasures unknown to Dean. And he was curious, more curious than afraid now, when they didn’t have much time any more to take things slowly. Despite this, he couldn’t deny a part of him was afraid of the pain he knew could come from anal sex, especially if they didn’t go through the much-needed preparation, but Castiel seemed so sure of what he was doing and, to be fair, he did have _years_ of memories burrowed from another lifetime in which he probably fucked Dean countless times by now. He trusted him with his life, so why not with his body too? After all, Cas could cure any injuries, could use his grace to keep any pain at bay.

Dean nodded and braced himself, burying his face in Castiel’s neck as the angel very slowly aligned himself with the man’s entrance and pushed in softly. Dean’s lips parted to form a small ‘o’ and he held his breath as he felt his body stretching to receive Cas. It didn’t hurt, just like his companion had promised, but he was glad Cas was taking it slow because the unfamiliar sensation of being _stuffed_ was surely weird and his body needed time to adjust. Inch by inch, Castiel went on and on until he was completely buried inside him. Only after a moment, Dean allowed himself to take a sharp breath in or he feared he’d pass out. He felt so full, he possibly couldn’t imagine how air was going to fit in his lungs, but it did.

It was only then, when he started to breath and relax, that he realised Cas was frozen on top of him. He opened his eyes to watch the angel’s face contorted in something that seemed a mix of concentration and pleasure. He was biting his lip so hard he might start bleeding soon, and his core was shacking.

“Cas,” Dean called him and was taken aback by how out of breath he sounded. He ran a hand through the other’s dark hair, fisting it gently to force the angel to look up, “it’s okay, Cas, you can move. I’m okay.”

Cas opened his eyes and Dean was surprised to see his pupils wide, his eyes almost black with lust. Dean guessed he had to be making a lot of effort to not just fuck him senseless into the mattress.

Dean moan obscenely as he felt Castiel’s dick slide out of him slowly. It felt like a long time as he pulled out, and then he was coming back in, a little more quickly than the first time. Dean felt like a virgin just laying there, waiting, completely lost and at Castiel’s mercy, but he didn’t care, he knew Cas was patient and nothing else but loving and kind. And by the look in his face, he was having the time of his life.

Suddenly the angel started picking up the pace, fisting the sheets with unnecessary force until Dean heard them rip. Cas couldn’t take it anymore, he needed more, so he bent Dean’s knees closer to his chest. The new angle seemed to allow him to go even further, though Dean hadn’t even thought that was possible, and when the angel thrust back into him, Dean had to bite his shoulder to stop a very loud moan from escaping his mouth. He was too out of it to ask Castiel to do that again, to hit once more that sweet spot no one had ever been even close to before, but he didn’t need to, Cas was desperately pulling in and out of him eagerly, lost in his own pleasure.

Cas knew he was close to finishing, dangerously close in fact, and he wanted nothing more than to have Dean finish first, so he reached between their bodies and started pumping Dean. It was too much for the overwhelmed human, who spluttered cum all over himself just a few seconds later. His orgasm was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, better and more intense than any other he could remember. He had to chew the insides of his cheek to stop himself from groaning too loud and waking the whole bunker up (that was, if anyone was able to fall asleep with the dark cloud each of them had over their heads). Cas followed him almost immediately after, though he didn’t manage to be exactly as quiet as Dean had been.

Dean was vaguely aware of the sound of Castiel’s fingers snapping, but he could tell he was completely clean all of a sudden. The angel collapsed on top of him and allowed Dean to roll him over to his side while Dean held him tightly. The dark-haired man was still out of breath, which was funny considering he didn’t really need to breath.

“That was- that was-”

The angel couldn’t find the words to describe what he’d just felt.

“I know,” Dean agreed with a vague smile. He held Cas impossibly close, wanting to feel every inch of his own skin against the angel’s. “Everything with you is awesome.”

The angel opened his eyes. His pupils were still dilated, but the look of lust was replace by one of affection and, deep down, sadness.

“Thank you,” he told Dean before he leant forwards to kiss him softly.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, both wondering the same; was this the last time they would hold each other like this? Probably yes. But it was fine, it was okay, if it meant the children got to live. They’d had a good run, and if they could meet their end for a good cause and together, hand in hand, they’d take it. There were worst ways to die, they knew it, and at least like this they wouldn’t go together.

“You’ll be my heaven, you know that, don’t you?” Dean asked, his voice low as he struggled to speak through the lump in his throat.

Cas nodded.

“What’s going to happen to you? When you die, I mean.”

“I don’t know, Dean.”

“Does that scare you, not knowing where you’ll end up?”

“Not really. I don’t fear nothingness. Eternity without you would be worse.”

Dean’s heart was racing with newfound nerves. He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against Castiel’s. Dying was never easy, he’d done literally over a hundred times and it never got easy. At least this time, he knew he didn’t want to come back, not if Cas wasn’t going to be there for him.

“I love you, Cas.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

* * *

Early in the morning, the new Dean sat in the edge of his daughter's bed. The mattress sank under his weight, causing Mary to roll a little towards the depression. She stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes as her father pulled a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Morning, sweetheart," he said.

"Hey, dad," she answered lazily.

"Can you tell us apart? I mean, me and this universe's me."

The child nodded. "Your souls are different."

"What did I say about spying on people's souls?"

"It's rude, I know. I can't always help it."

"I know, baby girl, I know..."

Dean sighed long and hard while they merely looked at each other for a moment. He knew she knew something was wrong and there was really no point hiding the truth from her, she already knew what -no, rather _who_ was the source of all this mess. And now he needed to ask his child to let him go _again_ to face danger while she just waited with her brothers, though this time he wasn't sure they'd be safe if he failed.  
"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked. "Where's papa?"

It was a question she'd been dying to ask although at the same time she was terrified of getting the worst possible answer... But she had faith, he couldn't be dead, he just _couldn't_... Could he?

Dean struggled with himself; should he be completely honest or should he keep her in the dark about Castiel's fate? The truth was he wasn't sure what had happened to Cas, if he was being tortured or if perhaps Lucifer had found a way to use his grace without the need to keep him alive.

"Mary... Your father... He couldn't come. He... He is alive..."

"But in danger, isn't he?"

Dean ran a hand down his face and nodded. "Lucifer... He found a way to come to this universe."

Mary sat up slowly. Dean hated the sudden look of utter fear in her face.

"Darling, don’t worry, we've found a way to stop him, but we need to go back to grandpa's house. That's where he will cross to universe. When he gets here, we'll kill him, once and for all."

The blond girl considered his words for a moment, frowning slightly until she realized why he was there, waking her up so early, and her expression changed to one of anger.

"You're leaving again? No! No, dad, let me go with you!"

"Honey, you have to listen to me, _please_. I need you to stay here, okay?" Dean pleaded as he cupped her cheeks in his big hands. "I need you to stay and protect your brothers. The bunker is warded, it’s going to make it harder for him to track you down, but it won’t stop him forever. We’re going to put holy oil around grandpa’s house so he’s stuck there. It'll give us time to stop him, and it's safer for you and your brothers."

"But dad, I can help you! Josie can look after Baltz and Z-"

"No, Mary, she can't. She barely knows anything about our world. Your brothers could accidentally smite her. I need you to stay and take care of them."

Mary clenched her jaw, eyes full of tears. She hated this, hated watching her dad leave again, and this time to personally face the Devil, with very little help. If the armies of Heaven hadn’t been able to do the job back in their world, what made them think a couple of hunters and a bunch of angels, many of whom she still hadn't cure and therefore couldn't fly, could take down the Devil this time around?

It was breaking Dean’s heart to watch his daughter cry and he knew he should get up and leave, everyone was waiting for him to leave, but he felt glued to the bed. He wanted nothing more but to lay down next to her and talk, just talk, lose himself in those blue eyes that looked at him with nothing but adoration and talk to his daughter, his magnificent, brave little daughter.

But instead, he kissed the top of her head before he stood up.

“What, you’re leaving _now_?” she asked. He could almost see her heart sinking inside her chest.

“The sooner, the better, baby. I can’t let him get to you and-”

Mary was gone. Almost instantly she appeared by this universe’s version of Dean, who was waiting in the library with his arms folded. He jumped back when she suddenly popped into existence next to him and a hand flew to his chest.

“Jesus, Mary-”

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” she growled fiercely. Before he had time to answer, she threw her arms around his waist and held him so tightly it kind of hurt, but he didn’t say a thing, just held her back. She only opened her eyes when she felt her father’s grace engulfing hers as he moved closer to her. She let go of Dean and turned around to hug Castiel. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Cas hesitated as he chose his words carefully; he couldn't promise to be careful when in all honesty, he knew he was going to meet his final death soon.

“We’ll succeed,” he replied after some thought. “Don’t worry, Mary, you’ll be back home in no time.”

“Protect your siblings, darling,” Rowena said, offering her a small smile. “And tell Balthazar… Say goodbye to him from me, will you?”

Mary nodded as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Come back as soon as possible, okay?” she said, looking around at people gathered in the library.

Dean simply nodded, unable to bring himself to lie out loud and in her face.

“Take care, sweetheart,” he said, placing a last kiss on the top of her head.

“Be careful, Sam,” Josie mumbled shyly, pulling from the tall man’s sleeve before she stood in the tip of her toes to kiss him in the cheek. All the man could do was nod; he was quite pale that morning and dark shadows under his eyes made him look several years older. Inside his head, he was screaming. If only they had more time, perhaps he could find another solution, but time was running out, nobody knew exactly when Lucifer would arrive, and it could be soon if not right there and then.

Josie went to stand next to Mary and offered the child her hand. Mary sighed and took the woman’s hand as they both watched the party form a circle around the library. Can touched Sam’s and Dean’s shoulders, while other two angels gently touched Rowena’s and the other universe’s Dean’s arms respectively. In a blink of an eye, they were gone.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Josie mumbled, looking into the empty space with a look of awe in her face.

Mary Winchester spent the entire day trying to distract her brother. Balthazar was not happy at all with the sudden disappearance of his entire family, except for Josie, who took same days off work to hang out with the kids in the bunker. She thought she was babysitting them, but in all honestly, Mary kept a careful eye on Zep in case his grace acted out and accidentally hurt the woman. He didn’t, though. He was a perfectly good boy the entire day.

Both boys were refusing to go to sleep that night. Balthazar demanded that their parents made an appearance, that one of them read him a story before bed, and Zep was just fidgety for reasons that escaped Mary; perhaps he could tell, at some level, that something was wrong, or perhaps Balthazar was just upsetting him through their bond. Josie tried carrying him around the room, singing to him, giving him a warm bottle, but nothing worked. It was late and the woman was obviously tired.

“Josie, it’s okay, I can take care of him, go to sleep,” Mary told her.

“I’m not tired,” Josie said out of the blue. Mary smiled at her.

“You are, I can see it in your soul.”

“My soul?”

Josie looked down at herself, half-expecting to be able to see the thing herself.

“I don’t need to sleep,” Mary told her, “so just leave him with me.”

Mary stretched her arms in his brother’s direction and after a moment of hesitation, Josie passed the baby onto her arms.

“Are you sure?” she asked, feeling guilty, but her eyelids felt heavy. It was way passed midnight and she was exhausted.

The girl nodded and climbed into bed next to a very moody Balthazar, who laid with his arms folded over his chest, his back against the headboard.

“Yeah, these two are not going to bed anytime soon,” Mary sighed and rolled his eyes at her brother.

“And you _really_ don’t need to sleep?” Josie asked with curiosity.

“I can go a couple of days without sleeping,” the child explained and shrugged like it was completely unimportant and normal. “As we get older, we lose our human needs.”

“Human needs,” Josie giggled nervously. She couldn’t believe she was having this kind of conversation with a half-angel.

“But I’ll always eat pie,” Balthazar said suddenly, and it was funny because he was still frowning, stubbornly maintaining hi angry facade. Mary suppressed a smile.

“Same,” she agreed.

“Okay, then…” Josie said, awkwardly retreating towards the door. “Good night and don’t do anything weird while I’m sleeping, okay? I’ll be up early for breakfast, I promise.”

Mary waved goodbye while Balthazar remained with his arms folded. The girl laid their baby brother between them and rested her head in the pillow, then observed her young brother for a moment.

“Do you want me to read you a story, Baltz?” she asked gently but he shook his head.

“I’m going to wait for dad.”

“We don’t know when he’s coming back, Baltz. And you need to sleep.”

“I don’t!” he said, raising his voice a little. “And you don’t think I know something’s wrong? Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me anything?”

“Cause you’re too young, Baltz.”

“You’re not that much older than me!”

“But I am the oldest,” she said and when her brother opened his mouth to continue complaining, she added, “I know it sucks, Baltz, and trust me, I don’t know nearly as much as I wish I did. I wish we could go with dad, I wish they would let us help, but we need to stay here and take care of Zep.”

Baltz sighed and rolled to his side to look down at his baby brother.

“I want dad to come back. With papa.”

“Me too, Baltz… But… You know, if you go to sleep, it’ll feel like you have to wait less. So… Just try, okay? I think you’re upsetting Zeppelin too.”

The boy looked down at his baby brother again, who tried to roll and get on his tummy. His soul seemed restless too, just like he was feeling, and he wondered with a little sense of guilt if she was right, if he was upsetting his younger brother.

“Alright,” the boy finally sighed with defeat, sliding down the headboard until his head was laying in the pillow. “But- but stay and- and wake me up if they come back, promise?”

Mary sighed and pulled the covers over the three of them.

“I promise,” she whispered softly. She put an arm over Zeppelin and starting rocking his grace with her own, trying to soothe him to make him sleep.

Kilometers away, the gang waited nervously but patiently for Lucifer to show up. Dean was sure his brother in the other world, Bobby and the angels that remain could not hold back the archangel for too long. He prayed that his brother and Bobby could survive, somehow, the wrath of the Devil. He didn’t want to even imagine what it would be like to return to his world with his children but have his entire family dead because of him.

The angels had done quick work on the house and had surrounded it with holy oil, and now all they had to do was wait for Lucifer to show up to trap him inside the ring of fire. Rowena had drawn the proper symbols needed for the spell and now she waited along with this universe’ Dean and Castiel inside a triangle that was surrounded by other symbols and sigils that only the witch seemed to be familiar with. Sam stood back with a book in his hands, his hands shaking as his eyes were glued to his older brother’s back. Dean didn’t want to turn around and look at him, see his sad puppy face while they basically waited around for their time of death. It was okay, it was a death he had come to terms with, and he wasn’t afraid as long as Castiel remained by his side, holding his hand.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” the children’s real father said to Sam. He waited next to the tall man with a gun on his hand, waiting for the moment in which he’d put a bullet through Lucifer’s head with eagerness. “About all of this, about your brother... I’m sorry.”

Sam nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. He wasn’t angry, he understood the situation perfectly and even Dean’s decision, but he was in pure agony. It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen Dean died, it never got easier. And this time, it would be definitive.

They waited and waited, the humans shivering a little in the cold night, until finally, a light appeared from inside the house and Dean quickly let his lighter fall over the oil, which caught on fire right away, trapping Lucifer inside.

“Now, Sam!”

* * *

Mary suddenly sat up in her bed, causing her baby brother to stir in his sleep, threatening to wake up.

She could feel her father’s grace, could feel him alive and kicking through their bond. He’d finally come for them.

A smile spread across her face. She was about to wake her brother up when she heard the wrong voice talking to her through the bond.

_Mary, Mary, Mary… Oh, you sneaky little girl, can’t run from me no more…_

The icy cold voice sent a shiver down her spine and though she’d never heard him speak before, she knew right away who that voice belonged to.

_That’s right, darling, it’s your uncle Lucifer here… Come out, come out, wherever you are, come out and play…_

_Why- how can I hear you?_ Mary asked. She tried her best not hide the fact that she was terrified and did her best to sound angry and fierce instead. _Get out of my head! You’re not welcomed in this bond!_

 _Oh, darling, you see, I’ve got you daddy dear here with me. Can you hear him? Can you_ feel _his pain?_

A wave of raw anguish ran through the bond the children shared with Cas and Mary quickly cut the connection before it could make it all the way to Balthazar. If he woke up, if he heard Lucifer- the pain was terrible, so very real, she was cringing, holding on to the sheets for dear life.

 _Leave my father alone!_ Mary cried through the bond.

 _Why don’t you come and get him? Give your uncle a proper kiss too while you’re at it, huh?_ Lucifer mocked her through the bond before he submitted her father to another wave of pain. Mary could hear the cries of pain through the distance, as if Castiel were right in front of her, shaking under Lucifer’s torture. He was trying hard not to cry out, for the sake of his children, he didn’t want them to hear, but the ache was so intense he couldn’t help losing control.

_NO! Stop it!_

Fat tears ran down her face and the lights in the room exploded. Balthazar rolled on the bed and Mary held her breath as she looked down at her brother in the dark, but the boy kept sleeping. Zeppelin, in the other hand, started to whine softly. Mary laid back in the bed, placing a shaky hand on her baby brother’s brother, shushing him softly.

 _You are not the perfect, little saviour everyone told me you were…_ Lucifer spoke through the bond. _Can’t believe you’re just going to sit there and let me have my way with daddy dear… I’m disappointed._

 _SHUT UP!_ Mary growled through the bond, and sobbed in the darkness of her bedroom.

 _He’s just trying to trick you_ , the girl reasoned with herself. _He just wants to get to us…_ _Dad will save papa, he will, he promised, he will…_

 _Oh, really?_ Lucifer’s smug tone came through the bond. _Because he too has a habit of letting other die for him…_

_You’re lying! Don’t you dare speak of my father!_

_Come here, darling, take a look if you don’t believe me…_

The image that came through the bond felt all too real, Mary felt like she was standing right next to Lucifer, surrounded by the ring of holy fire herself, with her angel father laying incapacitated on the floor. The heat engulfed him and she felt the pressure he felt that confined him to the circle; he was trapped. She smiled for a moment, a fake sense of relief washing over her for just a second before he pushed the image beyond the fire, where she could see Dean, Castiel and Rowena on the floor, shaking violently. Behind them, the angels and her own father waited as Sam spoke words she couldn’t comprehend, which she guessed were part of some kind of spell. They weren’t even trying to help the ones that laid on the cold, hard ground in pain.

Mary was breathless, frozen in place, panic growing in her chest.

_I guess you get if from your old man, child… Letting others die for you…_

Another wave of pain ran through the bond and Mary looked down to watch Castiel gritting his teeth together, doubling in on himself, blood coming out of his ears and eyes.

_STOP IT! PLEASE! LET HIM GO!_

_It’s your choice, darling,_ Lucifer said in a singing voice. _Come and face me, or let your family die for you… One by one, watch them die…_

Mary could see beyond the fire, Dean was already unconscious in the floor. He was barely moving, and the child realised he was dying too. _We've found a way to stop him_ , her father had told her. Was that it? Did Rowena, Castiel and Dean had to die in order to kill Lucifer? And she was sure Lucifer was killing her angel father too, she could feel the connection slipping as his grace started to die out like a lightbulb losing energy, slowly turning off…

Her father’s cries echoed in her ears, the most horrible sound she’d ever heard, and she covered her ears with her hands as if she could stop the sound from coming through the bond. She could feel his bones breaking, the life fading from him, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

_STOP!_

The floor shook under her and Balthazar woke up with a start as Zeppelin begun to cry. Distracted and overwhelmed by the situation, Mary couldn’t stop the images and the feelings from reaching her brothers through the bond. Her brother gasped and his eyes turned impossibly blue, the light of his grace illuminating the room.

“NO!” he screamed to the top of his lungs, in his angelic voice. Every glass in a radius of a kilometer shattered and the ground shook so violently, cracks formed underneath their bed.

Before Mary could stop him, Balthazar gripped her soul and grace tightly and those of their younger sibling as well, and in less than a second they were flying through space faster than light, hurrying towards the guiding light that was their father’s grace.

Lucifer smiled smugly when he saw them coming, but his smirk only lasted a second when he realised what was really coming at him; not one or three scared baby nephilim, but one single formidable force of energy that advanced with determination. Their light hit him right in the chest and smashed him through the burnt house, dissipating the ring of fire as they went.

The angels acted at once; Nithael flew to the unconscious angel, the children’s real father, while the others flew away with the rest of the humans and this universe’s Castiel, hurrying to get them out of harm’s way as the kids moved with rage against Lucifer.

Lucifer struggled under the crushing weight of the being that held him against the ground. Its fierce roar was deafening. The angels watched from the distance, eyes wide and mouth agape as they witnessed something neither had seen in their millions of years of existence. Only their Father had had a strength that could compare with this new being’s power.

With their combined strength, Balthazar crushed Lucifer’s grace against the ground, lifted it and then ripped it apart mercilessly. The Devil tried to fight back but it was too late and he was too weak against them. Their graces ran through his, obliterating it completely in the blink of an eye, and a moment after the being dissipated.

The other universe’s Dean pushed the angel that was holding him, covering his eyes, away and looked around in complete panic. He didn’t know where they were and Bobby’s burnt house was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell-”

He looked around to find his Castiel unconscious in the ground.

“Cas!”

The man fell to his knees next to his partner and took him in his arms. The angel wasn’t responding or moving at all. Trails of fresh blood decorated his face in an awful way Dean never got used to. The man’s heart raced and he felt like he was going to be sick, maybe pass out himself.

“He’s alive,” one of the angels told him. “But we need to take him to Heaven to recover, he’s very weak.”

“Where the hell happened?” Sam asked. He’s dropped to his knees too, and was watching over his brother, who’s breathing was weak but constant.

“The children- they killed Lucifer,” Nithael explained.

“ _WHAT_?” their father looked up with panic in his face, and fisted the angel’s shirt to pull him closer. “Take me to my kids!”

Nithael nodded, and after instructing another angel to take the man’s partner to Heaven, he touched Dean’s forehead and together they landed again in the Singer Salvage Yard. Not too far away, the man heard a baby crying. He got to his feet so fast and so desperately, he fell and he stumbled a couple of times. He stopped when he reached a small crater a couple of meters behind the now complete ruins of Bobby’s house. It was deep, and in the bottom laid his two oldest kids unconscious and his baby, awake but crying.

He jumped into the crater, closely followed by the angel. He took the baby in his arms and held him close to his chest while the studied the faces of his eldest children. Balthazar was very pale and his nose was bleeding, while Mary seemed to be physically fine, but wouldn’t wake up either.

“I need to take them to Heaven,” Nithael said, his urgent tone worrying Dean even more. “The baby- he’s fine, he’s the strongest. But these two are very weak. They used a lot of their energy.”

Dean nodded dumbly; what else could he do but agree? The angels were on his side, after all, always had been. Now more than ever, they’d proven to really be a part of the family, always having their backs when the Winchesters needed them the most.

“I’ll be back,” Nithael said and patted his shoulder once before he disappeared with the two kids.

Dean sat there shaking for a moment, the cries of his baby boy the only thing that was grounding him to reality. His boy fisted his shirt and pulled, and it seemed to also pull him out of his trance.

“It’s okay, m’boy, it’s okay, daddy’s got you, I’m here, you’re fine, we’re fine, everything’s going to be okay…” 

* * *

The humans waited patiently in the bunker. Josie was quite freaked out by the minor earthquake and explosions Balthazar had caused, not to mention all the children’s sudden disappearance under her supervision, and the poor woman kept apologising over and over again under her breath as Sam sat with her in a couch, an arm over her shoulder.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,” the kids’ father said as he eased his baby boy back to sleep.

“But- I don’t understand what happened,” the woman said, running a hard down her face.  It was nearly dawn and she was tired, but couldn’t go back to sleep. “I thought they couldn’t fly that far away.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought so too,” the man said and sunk into the couch next to her. Zep had finally fallen asleep. “There’s a lot about tonight I don’t get…”

“But they’re fine, right?” this world’s Dean asked.

He felt like shit, like a car had ran him over, and even though the angels had tried to make him and Rowena feel better, the effects of the spell couldn’t be easily relieved. The witch said the pain would wear out, eventually, but the magic was too strong to be cured by even angels with a touch. The three volunteers for the sacrifice laid in their respective chairs, a little bent over their stomachs, looking pale and very tired.

“Nithael said they’d be fine,” his copy answered. He knew, at some level, that the angel wasn’t lying, that his family would be fine, but it was in his DNA to worry about them, and the thought of his babies being in any kind of pain was unbearable.

“So… So, what? They _killed_ Lucifer?” Sam asked. He hadn’t been able to see a thing, he’d barely had time to register an angel closing his eyes and flying him off to a different location, and before he knew it, they were being sent back to the bunker.

“Apparently, yeah…”

“They really are much stronger than we ever imagined,” Cas said. He seemed to be in a slightly better shape than Rowena and Dean, but he looked beaten nonetheless. “I saw some of the fight… It reminded me of my Father…”

"Kid saved our asses," Dean mumbled as he tried to lift himself up, his entire body ached.

“Why isn’t Zeppelin hurt? You said- you said Balthazar was bleeding,” Rowena asked Dean.

“He’s the strongest of the tree of them,” Cas explained. “Baltz was leading them, so he got the worst of it.”

Rowena sighed; that’s exactly what she’d meant to avoid, the little dark-haired boy getting hurt in any way. But in the end, he fallen into the role he had always been preparing for, that of the saviour. The witch shook her head; such a Winchester, reckless thing to do. But he was fine, he’d be back soon…

And they were back, a few days later. Castiel returned first, beaten and weak, but eager to join Dean again, who kissed him hungrily right in front of everyone as soon as he saw the angel. Nonetheless, the angel went back to Heaven to care for his children while they got stronger. When they young Winchesters returned from Heaven, they looked like human kids recovering from a strong flu, so their father declared that they should lay in a bed for a day or two before they crossed back to their world.

This universe’s Cas and Dean were stuck in a bittersweet train of emotions; everything was fine and as it should be, they kids were strong and recovering fast, and they would live a long and happy life with their family, but they’d leave soon, and who knew when they were going to see them again…

The day before their departure, Balthazar asked Dean and Rowena to take him to the park again, to say goodbye to Mayuri, his first (and only) friend ever. The little girl smiled widely when she saw the boy running to join her in the sandbox, while Dean and Rowena watched from the distance.

“Hi,” he started awkwardly, blushing for no reason, but there was something about her soul that made his heart race a little.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile, then stretched her hand to offer her plastic horse, “do you want to play cowboys?”

“I can’t,” he said as he knelt on the sand in front of her, “I have to go. I’m going back home tomorrow.”

“Oh…” the girl’s face fell a little, and so did Balthazar’s.

“I know…I just- I wanted to say that I- I- I like you, and- and- here…” the boy reached and touched the girl’s forehead with two fingers. Mayuri stared back at him in confusion while she waited for something to happen. “You had a weird lump inside your head,” he explained. “It won’t bother you anymore.”

The child just stared back, frowning, completely confused, but nonetheless she said, “thank you… But… How did you know I had something in my head?”

“I’m half-angel,” the boy explained, forgetting momentarily he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that. “I have to go now, I’ll see you later,” Balthazar announced, but stayed in place looking at the girl for a couple of seconds before he mustered the courage to lean in very quickly to give the girl a very innocent peck in the lips. Then he jumped to his feet, blushing wildly, and ran anyway.

Rowena and Dean laughed under their breath and pretended to look away when the kid came running their way.

The boy took the witch’s hand and jumped into the back of the car, smiling.

“Did you say your goodbye, Baltz?” the witch asked.

“No.”

“No? I thought you came here to say goodbye,” Dean asked, frowning through he rear-view mirror. Oh, boy, did the kid not understand they were leaving this universe? He lived in Lawrence, he wasn’t going to see the girl when he returned home.

“No… I came to cure her. She had something weird on her head,” he explained. Little did he know Mayuri actually had cancer and was supposed to die, her mother had only recently taken her to the doctor because the child had constant headaches, but they wouldn’t have found it in time.

“But- son- you should say goodbye to her,” Dean pressed gently, wondering if he should turn the car around and go back to the park.

“It’s okay, we’ll meet again,” the boy said with absolute certainty… And he was right. Mayuri would never forget him, or his confession on what he really was, or the fact that he had saved her, and the girl would spend years trying find him. Eventually, she’d find Dean, who would lead her to Balthazar, and after that, the rest was history. Love was an unstoppable force, even across universes, and those two were just meant for each other.

Dean stared at him through the mirror for a second and the sweet words ran on his head over and over again… He liked the sound of that, liked to think one day the boy would return.

Dean held on to this idea like his life depended on it while he watched the family get ready to cross back to their universe. He was doing a good job keeping a straight face and his emotions bottle up, but he gripped Castiel’s tightly as Sam painted the correct symbols in the wall.

“This is so weird,” Josie mumbled under her breath over and over again.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dean’s copy told him, offering his hand, which the man shook, trying to hide that he was somehow shaking. “I just wanted to let you know- if you’d like- we’d love to have you over for Christmas.”

“W-what?”

“Yeah, I’m sure the kids would love to have you over for the holidays. If you want, of course,” his reflection scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “We do it at Bobby’s, every year. You’re invited to visit us, whenever you want.”

Dean couldn’t do more than nod, while Castiel said, “we will. Thank you.”

“Do you want to save goodbye?”

The man offered the baby to them, and one by one, Dean and Cas held him one last time, gave the baby one last kiss, and gave the child back to his father. Balthazar gave the both of them a big hug and told them he was sure they'd meet again soon; he didn’t seem at all sad, he was absolutely sure they would meet again, soon, and for that Dean loved him. It was Mary who seemed to be fighting tears of her own, and their temporary adoptive parents gave the girl a long, loving hug.

“We’ll visit, kid, it’s okay,” Dean told her through the lump in her throat. The girl merely nodded as Castiel wiped away her tears with the back of his hand.

“Come on, sweetheart, time to go,” her father said, offering her hand to her. Her parents already stood next to the wall, with Zeppelin in Castiel’s arms and Balthazar holding Dean’s hand. Mary took his other hand and looked back at the humans and the angels she was leaving behind. “Rowena, aren’t you coming?”

The witched did a double take on him, wondering if she’d heard him right.

“We travel a lot,” Dean said, “we could use a nanny if you don’t mind the low living standards in our house… Balthazar would love to have you around, right, son?”

“Yes!” the boy exclaimed, then snapped his fingers to make the woman’s luggage appear by his side.

The witch couldn’t help but let out a relieved huff.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“You were willing to die for our son,” Castiel told her. “We owe you.”

“O-okay.”

The witch moved forwards graciously to where Balthazar waited with his hand extended in her direction. She took it and their friends watched her stand next to the family for a moment; she fitted nicely there, her soul glowed like it never had before.

Castiel moved a hand over the symbols and a dim light came from them.

 _This is it¸_ this universe’s Dean thought, gritting his teeth and holding his partner’s hand so tightly, it should hurt. _They’re leaving, this is it._

Castiel stepped into the wall, walking through it like there wasn’t concrete in the other side, closely followed by Rowena holding Balthazar’s hand. Mary stopped for a moment before she and her father stepped back into their universe and looked over her shoulder at Dean and Cas.

“I’ll be yours,” she said, speaking the same words Dean had told her not too long ago, “in every universe.”

That was Dean's breaking point, he couldn't help the tears that rolled down his face as those beautiful blue eyes looked back at him with pure adoration.

And then they were gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif sources (tumblr users): ahoyspn ; godshipsit ; conduitstr ; gaywitchtwins ; witchkiiller ; lacarorikolina ; i-think-i-m-adorable ; keepcalmandbeajunkie ; thewinchesterdaily ; yourfavoritedirector ; danistiel


	33. Epilogue

It took a while for Dean and Cas to face their own wishes and go on with their lives. It felt somehow weird or wrong, a cloud of guilt hovered over them at the idea of having their own family, like they were trying to replace the three kids they’d met and loved so much with their own children. They missed them almost to the point it drove them mad, made them want to jump into that other universe and never let them go, but they weren’t theirs to keep or raise. The kids were back home, safe and sound, happy in their house, in their lives, Mary was probably back in school and Balthazar had finally gained the right to play in the park with others kids; all was good, except the craving for a family of their own was eating them alive.

Finally, one night, they just couldn’t help themselves. Cas had used his grace before to fuck Dean, and it had never ended up with the creation of life, he’d always been careful not to pull from Dean’s soul too hard, but that night he could feel a difference in the man’s soul, could feel the light pull back at his grace; Dean was healing, he was ready to give in, to let go, and so the angel pulled from the soul. Only he pulled a little two hard and took two pieces instead of one.

When their twins were born, Castiel and Dean decided each of them can name one baby, so Dean called one of the kids Henry after his grandfather and Castiel called the second boy Raziel.

“An angel name? Really, Cas?” Dean laughed. “Kid’s not gonna be able to say his name until he’s 4.”

“Perhaps I should teach him his name in Enochian…” the angel wondered.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think human babies can speak Enochian…”

They laid in bed for a while, just looking down at their beautiful, tiny children. Both of them had light blond hair, one with brown eyes and the other with blue eyes. Castiel hoped, just like in the other universe, that the next kid would have Dean’s eyes, and hopefully they would have a girl too; Mary was going to be pissed they didn’t have at least one girl.

“Twins, huh?” Sam said with a faked tone of pity, looking down at his nephews. “You’re lucky Cas doesn’t _need_ to sleep, Dean.”

Dean shrugged; he didn’t care how many sleepless nights were ahead of him, he’d do it all over again for the joy the two little children brought him.

It took them a long time, but the four of them settled in Lawrence. Josie opened her store, and they all helped for a while, leaving the hunting life aside most of the time, though they helped hunters who asked for their aid or went for cases that were really close to home. Dean and Sam had experience doing odds jobs in construction, so they managed to set things up pretty nicely in the small building they were renting to start the business, and Castiel had a strange charm and was efficient receiving customers, while Josie worked like crazy in the kitchen. For a while, they all focused on building a life for themselves, once and for all.

Christmas came around and the four adults got ready to travel with the children. Josie prepared more pies than she could carry and moved nervously around the room as Sam painted the right sigils in the wall of the kitchen of the bakery shop.

“Relax,” Sam told her, rolling her eyes at her, “you won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

“And it can’t hurt the baby, right?” she asked as a hand came to rest in the barely noticeable bump in her stomach.

“For the hundredth time, no, it won’t hurt the baby,” he assured her.

“And flying from here to Bobby’s house?”

Sam paused for a moment.

“Okay, yeah, flying feels weird, but it won’t hurt the baby.”

Josie bit her lip and sighed.

“Babies don’t like flying either,” Castiel told her as he paced around the room with one of his children in his arms. “So you won’t be the only one whining.”

“Hey! I don’t _whine_ ,” the woman argued, blushing, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

Dean entered the room, smiling proudly for changing his son’s dirty diaper quickly without making the regular mess the left in the bathroom.

“We're all ready?” he asked with a wide smile; he was beyond excited, he could not _wait_ to see the kids again.

“It’s going to be kind of weird meeting your other wife,” Josie told Sam.

“She’s not my wife. _You’re_ my wide.”

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, I am looking forward to ask her funny, potentially awkward stories about you,” Josie smirked casually, to which Sam rolled his eyes.

“Sign me up for that!” Dean said as he went to stand in front of the symbols. “Shall we?” he asked Cas.

“After you,” the angel replied.

As soon as Dean walked through the wall, he appeared in the same room again, but instead of a kitchen, the room now had a couple of desks and chairs, and seemed to be something like an office. Josie, Sam and Cas appeared right behind him. Dean took Castiel’s hand and Sam and Josie touched their shoulders. In the blink of an eye, they were outside Bobby’s house. It was beyond strange to see the old man’s house decorated with Christmas lights, and Dean could even see a big tree inside with decorations and all. He’d never been one to celebrate holidays, let alone decorate the house, but trust Bobby to go a long way to spoil his grandchildren.

“Ready?” Castiel asked him softly, with a tender smile.

Dean was standing in the tip of his toes, his heart racing, but in a good way; he was about the see the kids, see Bobby, and have a wonderful Christmas with a big ass family, just like he’d always wanted.

“Ready,” he answered. His heart was bursting with happiness.

They didn’t make it to the door before it burst opened and Mary ran out to greet them. She’d meant to jump onto Castiel’s arms but stopped when she saw the baby.

“Is it a girl?” she asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Sorry, kid, twin boys,” Dean said as he gestured at the boy in his arms.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath, but smiled anyways as she looked at what she considered to be her baby brother. “Next one better be a girl!”

“I hope so too,” Cas said, and Dean merely chuckled and blushed, “with green eyes.”

Mary took Dean’s hand and urged him forwards. Inviting laughter and warmth came from the house, and they could smell a combination of delicious food coming from inside.

“Come on, dad and papa, let’s go in. Welcome home,” Mary said.


End file.
